Baby, You Can't Use the Siren
by delia84
Summary: Brennan gets an emergency call from Angela, and responds by taking Booth's vehicle. She might break a few rules and get into a little bit of trouble along the way...
1. Chapter 1

_This is set a little bit in the future — let's estimate it's about three years after Christine is born. Also for this fic, I'm assuming Booth and Brennan are married. (Not a key part of the plot, just something I decided to do.) _

_Not sure how many chapters I'll do, but it won't be crazy long. It's light, so all the anti-angst readers can relax. Enjoy, and thanks for reading. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

Booth and Brennan sat in Booth's office, reviewing files as they prepared for a court case with Caroline Julian. It was still early, and the cheeky prosecutor had been delayed in traffic, leaving the couple in a relatively quiet office.

"Hey Booth." An agent popped in the cracked door. "Got a couple minutes? We'd really like your input on this footage from the James case."

Booth glanced at his watch. "Yeah, sure." He stood, leaving the files spread all over his desk. "Bones, can you call me when Caroline gets here?"

She nodded, still deeply engrossed in her stack of papers and evidence photographs.

A few minutes passed, and the office was blissfully silent, save for the occasional background noise of passing agents and FBI personnel outside the door. It was so quiet that Brennan was startled when her phone rang.

"Brennan."

"BREN! I need you right now!"

"I'm preparing for a trial — I'll be at the lab in later."

"No, I need you at my house right now!"

"Ang, I …" Brennan hesitated, hearing a significant amount of noise over the line. "Is that Michael? What's going on?"

"Bren, it's an emergency! Please get here!"

"OK. Leaving now." Brennan ended the call, quickly reaching for her bag to find her keys. She quickly realized she had ridden to work with Booth, causing a momentary dilemma. She dug through the stacks of papers and files on the desk, letting out a quick "Ah hah" when she heard a jingle.

She snatched the keys, heading straight out of Booth's office.

"Dr. Brennan?" The secretary looked up, slightly startled at woman rapidly flying by her desk. "Everything alright?"

"Have Booth call me if there's questions!" Brennan called out over her shoulder.

"OK…"

Brennan hit the parking garage and broke into a brisk jog, hitting Booth's clicker repeatedly until she heard the vehicle distantly beep. Due to a phone call and paperwork during their commute, she had paid no attention to where Booth had parked them that morning.

"Finally." She found the car and climbed in, jamming the key into the ignition and throwing the SUV into reverse as she fastened her seatbelt. Guiding the vehicle to the exit, she pulled out of the garage.

Five minutes later, she hit her first red light.

"Dammit." She cursed under her breath, then reached for her phone as it rang again.

"Brennan."

"Bren, where are you!?"

"Ang, I'm on my way! I'll be there soon, I promise. I'm coming from the Hoover."

"Please hurry."

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"I need you to check Michael." Angela's voice was tearful. "Just hurry, OK?"

"I'll be there in five."

Another red light made it six minutes, but Brennan made it to the house in record time. She had barely parked the car when the front door open, revealed a disheveled Hodgins, who was beckoning her inside with both arms.

"What's wrong?" Brennan asked, running up the walkway to the house.

"It's his arm, or maybe his collarbone."

"Broken?"

"That's why you're here."

"Right." Brennan stepped inside, waiting for Hodgins to lead the way.

"Playroom, Dr. B."

Brennan quickly made her way through the familiar house, now hearing Angela's soothing voice amidst Michael's cries.

"Babe? She's here."

"Oh, thank God." Angela looked up at Hodgins and Brennan, relieved. She had Michael cradled in her lap, sitting on the floor against the couch. "Look, Aunt B is here."

"Hey Michael." Brennan knelt, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Michael's head. "Ang, can you tell me what happened?"

"I'm not exactly sure." Angela sniffled. "I wasn't in the room. I think he must have been playing or jumping on the couch. We heard him scream and Hodgins found him on the floor holding his arm."

Brennan nodded, glancing at Michael, who was clearly favoring his left arm. "Has he stood up? Have you been able to look at his shoulder?"

"No. I don't want to hurt him."

"Yeah." Brennan bent, trying to look Michael in the eyes. "Michael, can I see your arm for a minute?"

Michael whimpered, leaning further into Angela's chest.

"Buddy, Aunt B needs to check your arm. She needs to see how badly it's hurt." Angela shifted slightly, gently turning Michael. "It's just for a minute."

"No." The little boy began to wail, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

Angela looked at Brennan helplessly. "Michael … please. She has to look at it before we take you to the doctor."

"Hey buddy." Hodgins knelt beside Angela. "Daddy's going to help you show Aunt B your arm. She's gotta check it. If she doesn't check it, it's just going to keep hurting."

Michael still protested, trying to hide against Angela, who was beginning to tear up again.

"Buddy, I'm going to help you be brave. And after all this is over, we're going to the zoo," Hodgins bribed. "You've gotta show Aunt B your arm."

After minutes of coaxing and pleading, Hodgins got Michael standing and helped him hold his arm out to Brennan.

"It's broken, isn't it." Angela took one look at Brennan's analytical face.

"Definitely."

"Collarbone too?"

"I'm not entirely certain, but judging by the slight slope in his clavicle, it's a definite possibility." She hesitated. "I could check, but …"

"No need." Hodgins shook his head. "We'll take him in and let the doctors deal with it."

"Thank you." Angela hugged Brennan. "I'm sorry I was hysterical on the phone."

"No need to apologize." Brennan leaned to smile at Michael. "You did great. I'm all finished."

"Hurts."

"I know. But the doctors are going to fix it."

"Will you come with us and make sure they do it right?" The words tumbled out of Angela's mouth.

"Babe, she's due in court …"

"Of course." Brennan nodded. "I've got time."

"Dr. B, are you sure?"

"Yes." She glanced at her watch. "I've got Booth's car — I'll drive you there. Hodgins, you can follow us. I'll have to get back to the office, and I don't want to have you stuck at the hospital."


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for the follows and the reviews!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

Hodgins loaded Michael in the backseat with Angela, promising to be right behind them. Brennan began the drive to the hospital, listening as Angela tried to soothe her son.

"Guess what? You'll get a super cool cast. Remember Lexi in your class at preschool?"

"Uh huh."

"She had a cast. Remembering coloring on it? It's pretty awesome, isn't it? What color do you think you want?"

"Don't know."

"Blue? Black? Maybe green? I bet they can do two colors."

"I hear they have patterns, too," Brennan added helpfully, letting out a sigh as she hit a red light.

"Hear that, buddy? Maybe you could get camo!"

"Do they have bugs?"

"Maybe. If not, I will draw them on your cast."

"And a snake?"

"Sure, I can draw a snake. What kind?"

The little boy thought for a moment. "A big one."

"OK."

"He can be red."

"That sounds great. A red snake. What color do you want the bugs?"

Brennan tuned out Michael's reply as she suddenly hit a wave of traffic. She hesitated, glancing up at the tempting switch close to the sunroof. When she found that it had been nearly two minutes since she had moved, she impulsively reached for it.

"Hey Ang? Hang on."

Angela's eyes widened, immediately hearing the siren. "Bren!"

"This is taking too long," Brennan reasoned, smiling as traffic began to open up for her. "Ah, here we go."

"Are you allowed to use those?"

"This is an emergency."

* * *

The trio arrived at the ER, with Hodgins still a few minutes behind them. Brennan promptly dropped her name at the front desk and asked for a specific pediatric orthopedist. The nurse nodded and quickly went to get her request granted, telling another nurse to take them to a private room immediately.

"I'll need to see his x-rays after you finish," Brennan instructed, having rattled off the specifics of where the bone was broken to the orthopedist.

"Right." The doctor was interrupted as Hodgins entered the room.

"Daddy!"

"Hey buddy. Sorry it took me so long. Massive delay on the freeway." He glanced at Brennan. "Um, there's someone in the waiting room for you."

"It can wait."

"No, it can't."

"Who is it?"

"Trust me. You need to go to the waiting room."

"Fine." Brennan sighed and turned to Angela. "I'll be right back."

She stepped outside of the room and headed back to the waiting room. A slightly amused police officer waved at her. "Dr. Brennan, right over here, please."

"Can't this wait?"

"No ma'am, it can't. I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me."

"What?"

* * *

Booth strode back into his office, greeting Caroline with a smile. "Sorry, got asked to do a little consulting. Hey, where's Bones?"

"I've been here for 20 minutes, Cher. She hasn't set foot in this room."

He glanced around the room. "But she was just here!"

"Do you see her here now?" Caroline rolled her eyes. "It's your job to make sure the two of you are here. I'm supposed to be preparing both of you for court."

"She knows that. She was supposed to call me when you got here. Maybe she's in the bathroom." Booth poked his head outside his office. "Hey, Susan, you see Dr. Brennan?"

"About 30 or 40 minutes ago."

"What?" His phone interrupted him, revealing Brennan on the caller ID. "Never mind. Hey, Bones, where are you?"

"You're going to need Caroline."

"She's here. Where are you?"

Brennan huffed. "The precinct."

"What?"

"Apparently taking your car was a bad idea."

"What … why did you take my car? And why are you at the precinct?"

"That doesn't matter right now. The officer says I only have 30 more seconds before he takes my phone. Please come get me."

"Bones, seriously?"

"Booth!"

"Why are they taking your phone? Wait … are you being held there?"

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, but they've got it all wrong."

"Oh, I can't wait to hear this one."

"Just come get me!"

"On my way." He pocketed his phone. "Caroline, you're driving us to the precinct. We've gotta get Bones."

"She assault another federal agent? Piss off another mob boss? Pull out a gun when she shouldn't have?"

"Beats me. Come on."


	3. Chapter 3

_Happy Thanksgiving, y'all! Thank you for reading. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"Agent Booth." An officer behind the precinct desk greeted Booth. "I'm guessing you're here for your partner."

"Yeah." He let out a groan at the sound of Brennan arguing in the background with an officer.

Caroline elbowed Booth. "How about you ask why she's here? Mind reading us the charges, officer?"

The officer eyed Caroline curiously. "And you are?"

"Her attorney."

"Oh. Well here, suit yourself." The officer thrust a piece of paper through the window.

"My my, she sure does know how to handle herself, doesn't she?" Caroline's eyes scanned the sheet. She folded it and gave it to Booth. "You might want to take a look at that, cher."

"I'll let Bones explain it to me." Booth gave the officer a rueful smile, pointing in the direction of the holding and processing area. "May I?"

"Yeah, go right ahead." The officer jerked his thumb at the metal detector. "Through there and go … oh hell, just follow the sound of her voice. She hasn't stopped arguing since she got here."

"Figures." Booth reached under his jacket and handed Caroline his gun. "Hold that and stay here."

He proceeded through the metal detector and headed left, hearing Brennan's raised voice.

It took everything in him not to grin as he took in the sight of his pregnant wife standing inside a holding room, midway through an argument with another officer.

"Bones."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "What took you so long?"

"Agent Booth?" The man gave him a quizzical look.

"Hey Steve."

"You know her?"

Booth merely nodded.

"He's my partner," Brennan shot back.

The officer looked to Booth for confirmation.

"Steve, I'd like you to meet my partner and wife, Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"Well, I'll be damned."

"I told you I was married to an FBI agent!"

"Special agent," Booth corrected.

She glared at him.

"I'll let you two get this figured out." Steve stepped outside of the room. "Good to see you, Agent Booth."

Booth was silent, still trying not to laugh or grin at the ridiculousness of the matter.

"I'm ready to leave."

"I believe you have some explaining to do."

She rolled her eyes. "This is a big misunderstanding."

"Oh? Let's read your rap sheet, shall we?" Booth unfolded the sheet in his hand.

"What's that?"

Finally seeing the allegations in print, Booth's eyes widened. "Damn, Bones."

"What?" She attempted to look at the sheet, and he held it away from her, still reading the text.

"Impersonating an officer of the law by use of vehicular theft. Reckless driving. Speeding. Failure to signal a turn. Disturbing the peace."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Explain."

"But …"

"No." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Now. Let's start by why you took my car."

"Angela had an emergency."

"And you couldn't call me to tell me that?"

"I didn't think about it. She was very upset."

"Everything OK?"

"Michael broke his arm and possibly his collarbone. She asked me to come look at it, so I borrowed your car."

He nodded. "And?"

"Then I took them to the hospital."

"Continue."

She hesitated, avoiding eye contact.

"You used the siren, didn't you."

"Uh huh."

He was quiet for a minute. "Baby, you can't use the siren."

She shrugged her shoulders and huffed.

"Lights too?"

She nodded.

"Geez, Bones."

"It was an emergency!"

"Doesn't matter. You know that." He paused. "I can figure out the speeding and failure to signal a turn. What about reckless driving and disturbing the peace?"

"I have no idea."

"Don't give me that."

She quickly realized Booth wasn't joking around — he was actually irritated with her.

"You're angry."

"Yeah." He let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, I am."

"Why?"

"Seriously? You know better than this!"

"It was an emergency!"

"No, it wasn't, Bones!"

"So if Christine had broken her arm and was screaming in pain, you wouldn't turn on the siren?" Brennan shot back, her eyes blazing.

"If it was a life or death matter for you or Christine, or someone else, then yes, I would absolutely turn on the siren. You, however, are not a federal agent, which means you don't get to turn on the siren."

"I work for the FBI."

"No,_ I_ work for the FBI. You're _contracted_ to the FBI. By borrowing my car and using the emergency siren, you impersonated a federal agent. Do you see why that's serious?"

Unintentionally, she softened for a minute, biting her lower lip. "Yes."

"I know you had no intention of impersonating an officer, but that's what happened."

"I," she hesitated, sighing as she admitted, "I didn't think about it. I got Angela's call, and she was so panicked. When I heard Michael so upset, all I could think about was getting there."

Booth gave her a half smile and strode across the room to embrace her. "Hey. I know. I know you didn't mean to cause trouble."

She nodded into his shoulder.

"I'm kind of ready for your pregnancy hormones not to make you so impulsive. I miss the rational Bones."

She pinched his arm. "Take that back. I did the right thing."

"You did a good thing." Booth cupped Brennan's face in his hands. "But you broke multiple laws. You and I work for the law."

"You can get me out of this." She smiled confidently.

He was quiet for a few moments.

"You will get me out of this." She looked at him suspiciously. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

"These aren't exactly easy charges, Bones."

She pulled away from him and stepped back several feet, shaking her head. "Seeley Booth, you fix this."

"You started it!"

"You're a federal agent!"

"And you broke multiple laws! How do you suggest I fix this?"

Her eyes blazed once again as she let one hand rest under her swollen abdomen. "You don't want your baby girl born in a jail cell, do you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Stop it."

"It could happen." She crossed her arms across her chest defiantly.

"You're not due for another three weeks."

"And maybe I've been having contractions for the last week and haven't told you." She caught the flash of panic in his eyes.

"You didn't have Christine in jail, and you're not having this one in jail. Stop trying to manipulate me." He looked back down at the piece of paper in his hand, pondering the charges, and then eyed her suspiciously. "Have you really been having contractions for a week?"

She nodded.

"Why haven't you told me?"

"It's normal, and you get overbearing and overprotective. And I've told you now."

"Yeah, because you're trying to con me into getting you out of here." He glanced up, seeing her lower lip quiver and her eyes get big. "Uh uh, don't give me that look!"

She gave him the sad eyes again. "You're supposed to help me."

"Come here." He beckoned her in his arms again, and placed a kiss on top of her head. "You're OK. Please don't get upset. I can't handle the sad eyes."

"I want out of here. I didn't mean to do anything wrong."

"I know, Bones. I'm just trying to figure out what we need to do here."

"Am I going to have to go to court?"

"I hope not."

* * *

_Yeah, I have Brennan pregnant again. Don't worry — no jail scene labor like we saw with Christine! Also, I purposely didn't explain two of the charges — you'll get an explanation later. Thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

_I felt a little guilty making y'all go so long without an update, so here's a quick one. It's pure fluff, people (minus the first scene) — like rot your teeth with pure sugar/not a lot of plot fluff. Guess that's what happens when most of your dialogue is between two certain three/four year-olds! Thanks again for reading._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"BOOTH!" Caroline's voice bellowed down the hallway of the precinct.

Brennan's eyes immediately brightened. "Caroline!"

The prosecutor appeared around the corner, giving the pair a dirty look. "Hustle! If we don't get out of here, they'll be adding contempt of court to Dr. Brennan's record."

"Shit. How is it already noon?" Booth looked up from his watch.

"Did you hear me? Hustle!" Caroline nudged both of them out into the hall.

"How'd you get Bones out?"

"Charisma and my good looks."

Brennan raised an eyebrow.

"Well, who could resist you?" Booth shot Caroline a charm smile. "But seriously … how much do we owe you?"

"That's still to be determined. I'd start with a couple nice bottles of wine, a good bottle of whiskey, and naming that second little girl after me."

"We still haven't agreed on her name," Brennan said, following Booth and Caroline out the door.

"She's joking, Bones."

The look on Caroline's face revealed otherwise.

"We'll add Caroline to the list. It's a lovely name."

Brennan looked like she might protest. A stern look from Booth made her close her mouth.

"So, we're good to go?"

"Not exactly. Dr. Brennan may still be facing a court date," Caroline admitted with a sigh. "I only got her out because I go to church with that officer's mama."

"The front desk guy who somehow knew my name?"

"He knows your name because he worked a case with us two months ago!" Brennan interrupted.

"Oh. Obviously he wasn't memorable." Booth turned to Caroline. "But how'd you get her out of it? You're kidding about the church thing, right?"

"Nope." Caroline smiled smugly. "His mama owed me. Now I can start thinking about calling it even with her."

"I could kiss you."

"I wouldn't protest, cher." Caroline paused, winking. "But not around your baby mama."

Brennan rolled her eyes.

* * *

That evening, Booth, Brennan, and Christine visited the Hodgins for a brief thank-you-for-your-services dinner.

"Hi!" Angela answered the door, decked out in an incredibly domestic apron, holding a spatula in one hand. She hugged the trio and directed them into the den.

"Mikey! Sweet cast."

Michael grinned at Booth. "Wanna sign it?"

"You bet!" Booth went for a marker, and leaned toward Christine. "Hey, how about you give Michael his present?"

"Oh." The little girl walked up the couch, presenting Michael with a construction paper card and a small bag. "It's a …" She looked to Booth for help.

"A get well gift," he supplied.

She nodded. "Cause your arm is hurt."

Michael studied the card intently, tracing the drawings on the outside.

"They're bugs," Christine explained.

"I know." Michael pointed to one. "This one. Cool."

Christine smiled proudly. "He's the biggest."

"Yeah. He's cool." Michael opened the card, running his fingers over the letters. "My name!"

"Uh huh. Mommy wrote it." The little girl pointed the rest of the letters. "It says get better soon."

Michael nodded, reaching into the small gift bag. "Cool — a car! Look, Dad!"

"That's awesome, buddy. What do you tell Christine?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." She looked curiously at Michael's casted arm. "Does it hurt?"

"Nope."

"Did you cry?"

He frowned. "Yeah."

Both Booth and Hodgins exchanged grins, listening silently at the two children interacted.

"Only a little," Michael added defensively.

Christine shrugged her shoulders. "OK."

"Wanna marker?" Michael pointed to the table. "Write on my arm."

Christine looked at the marker selection, pondering her choices. She finally reached for a purple one, and uncapped it, pressing hesitantly against the cast. "Your arm is hard."

"Yeah."

"Does it hurt?"

He shook his head, watching intently as Christine wrote a large "CB" on his cast.

"Can I draw a smiley?"

"Yeah."

While the two continued decorating Michael's cast, Angela and Brennan were busy in the kitchen — Angela finishing up dinner, and Brennan looking over Michael's x-rays.

"So, do you concur with the doctor's findings?"

"I do." Brennan gave one final look at the collarbone x-ray. "And I'm actually very glad I was wrong about his clavicle."

"Hey, you never said it was broken."

"Well, I thought it was."

"You did?" Angela set down a stack of plates with a surprised glance at Brennan. "You didn't act sure about it."

"You were quite upset. I didn't want to worry you any further."

Angela smiled. "You're getting better at lying."

"I know." Brennan grinned.

"Aunt B!" Michael came jogging into the kitchen, Christine at his heels. "Sign my arm!"

"Please?" Angela prompted.

"Please." He held up several markers for Brennan.

"How about this one?" Brennan selected a blue pen, uncapping it.

Hodgins and Booth appeared in the kitchen, watching as Brennan signed Michael's bright orange cast.

"Well, that cast just went up in value." Hodgins grinned, inspecting Brennan's signature. "We can sell it on eBay once he gets it off."

"Perhaps I shouldn't have signed my formal name?" she mused worriedly.

"No, it's fine, Dr. B."

Brennan took another look at the cast and noticed Booth's informal "Uncle B" signature next to their daughter's initials, as well as "Mommy" and "Dad" from Angela and Hodgins.

"Michael, could I use the green marker now? I want to add something."

He nodded, handing Brennan the requested marker. She quickly added a "Love, Aunt B" below her famous signature.

"Looks good, Bones." Booth nodded reassuringly.

"What's it say?" Michael peered at the new letters.

"Just my name and then 'Love, Aunt B.'"

"But Aunt B _is_ your name."

"Yeah." Brennan smiled and planted a quick kiss on the top of Michael's head. "You're right. It is my name."

* * *

_Like I said, pure fluff, people. I do like the fact that Michael thinks Brennan's name is Aunt B. And I love that Aunt B can stand for Brennan, Bones, or Booth. Pick your personal favorite!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Special shout out to the guest reviewers — I can't respond to your reviews (sad day — you should think about registering!), but I do appreciate them. _

_It may be a week or so before I update again — headed out of town for work for a week. Again, thanks to everyone who is reading, reviewing, following, etc. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

After cleaning up dinner, the adults retired to the den, keeping an eye on Michael and Christine, who were gradually being lulled to sleep by the TV. While Hodgins and Booth worked through a couple glasses of whiskey, Angela attempted to knock out a bottle of wine on her own.

"Long day, huh?" Brennan grinned as Angela gave up on her wine glass and took her next sip straight from the bottle.

"Hey." Angela set the bottle down. "It's not every day that my kid scares the shit out of me and breaks his arm."

"I know."

"You're just jealous you can't drink."

Brennan shrugged. "I'm fine."

"Take a sip. It's a really good one."

Brennan laughed, and then reached to take a sip, agreeing with a nod. "Yeah, this is good."

"Miss it, Dr. B?" Hodgins raised his glass and toasted with Booth again.

"A little. Worth it."

Angela nodded. "Totally worth it."

"So, I gotta ask … you work everything out with the police?"

Booth sighed at Hodgins's question and took another sip of whiskey.

"Yeah, thanks for texting me, Bren. Least you could have done was let me know what happened. All Hodgins told me was that a police officer was in the waiting room asking for you."

"I only got one phone call!"

Angela's eyes narrowed, then slowly widened. "Did you get arrested?"

"Not exactly."

Booth raised an eyebrow. "Really, Bones?"

"Is it because you used the siren? Because, if you remember, I totally asked you about that … "

Hodgins looked at Brennan in disbelief. "You didn't have permission to use the siren?"

"You _both_ let her use it?" Booth asked. "I thought just Angela was guilty here!"

Hodgins immediately defended himself. "Look man, I was in the car behind them. I had no control over it."

"And neither did I!" Angela shot back. "You really think I could have stopped her from turning it on?"

"Doesn't matter if you could have stopped her. Did you even attempt to stop her?"

Angela huffed.

"That's what I figured."

"Not my fault she got caught," Angela muttered, reaching for the wine bottle again.

"OK. Pardon my asking again, but did you work everything out with the police?" Hodgins looked over at Brennan, deliberately avoiding Booth's stare.

"Essentially, yes." Brennan smiled, also avoiding Booth's stare.

Booth gulped down a mouthful of whiskey just a bit too quickly.

"You OK there?" Angela eyed him as he sputtered and coughed.

"Fine," he wheezed. "Just … fine."

"Something is not OK." Hodgins finally stated the obvious. "Let me go out on a limb here and guess — Dr. B is not in the clear with the police."

"That would be correct." Booth reached to take a sip of Brennan's water.

She glared at him. "No reason to bring this up."

"Oh, there's _every_ reason to bring this up. In fact, let's bring it up in front of witnesses so that it doesn't happen again."

"I sense some tension." Angela slid the bottle of whiskey across the island in Booth's general direction. "Easy there, tiger. Pour yourself another one."

Before the bottle reached him, Booth blurted out, "Bones has five and a half pending charges on her record!"

For a moment, Brennan almost looked embarrassed, but the look quickly turned angry. Angela and Hodgins sat quietly for a moment, taking healthy sips of their beverages.

"I'm guessing this is all from today?" Angela finally ventured.

Booth nodded, pouring himself another drink.

"How does one incur a half charge?" she mused.

"It sounded better than saying six," Booth said. "And she got charged with something by doing something else. So I kind of considered that a half."

Angela nodded. "Reasonable."

"Mind telling us what they are?"

"Not at all." Now it was Booth's time to ignore Brennan's stare. "Speeding."

"Understandable — I did that, too." Hodgins admitted.

"Failure to signal a turn."

"Probably did that, too."

"Reckless driving."

"Eh, I wouldn't go that far."

"Disturbing the peace. Still not really sure about that charge, but whatever."

Angela interrupted. "Is that what they gave her for the siren?"

"Oh, and the grand finale: impersonating an officer of the law by use of vehicular theft. And also the siren."

"No, that last one is what they gave her for the siren." Hodgins smirked. "Well done, Dr. B."

"That last one is serious." Angela eyed Brennan curiously. "You did get out of it, didn't you?"

She gave a curt nod.

"Bones, that's a lie and you know it."

"Alright, who do I need to pay off to get this taken care of?" Hodgins turned to look at Booth. "Seriously, man."

"You can't pay off the cops. You know that."

"There's got to be someone."

"Bones has to go to court."

"Judges are a little bit harder to pay off …"

Angela grimaced. "Oh no. She does not do well in court."

"I'm _right_ here, Angela." Brennan waved her hand.

"Sorry, sweetie. You know I'm right."

"Can't Caroline help?" Hodgins asked.

"She is helping," Brennan answered. "She and Booth will get this fixed quickly."

Booth resisted the urge to laugh at Brennan's certainty.

"The half charge … I assume that's the 'by use of vehicular theft' part?" Angela asked cautiously.

"Yeah."

"That really doesn't sound like a half charge to me," Hodgins remarked.

Suddenly, Angela clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Angie?"

"Oh no. No no no no." Angela quickly put her head down on the island. "This is bad."

Hodgins leaned over to put a hand on his wife's back. "Everything OK?"

"Bren's going to prison!" Angela was immediately tearful. "And it's my fault!"

"Hey, shhh." Hodgins helped Angela up and embraced her. "Shhh, calm down. You're going to startle the kids."

Sure enough, Michael and Christine had turned at Angela's outburst.

"Aunt Angie?"

"Mommy?"

"I'm fine!" Angela sniffled, giving the two a thumbs up sign. "Just give me a minute!"

"Angela," Brennan began, "I'm not going to prison."

"Good." Angela hiccupped. "They can't do that to you. Especially not with the baby."

"I'll be fine. Booth and Caroline are taking care of things."

"You are taking care of it, right?" Angela looked over at Booth tearfully.

"Yeah, yeah. We're working on it. She'll be OK. She'll probably just have to meet with a judge and pay a fine. Hopefully no community service or suspended license."

Brennan looked shocked. "Those are options?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't mean to get you in trouble, Bren."

"Stop it, Ang," Brennan ordered. "You didn't get me in trouble."

"But I called you …"

"And the rest of it was my decision. Now stop worrying about it. Please."

* * *

Upon arriving home, Booth promptly volunteered to put Christine to bed, enabling Brennan to get ready for bed first. She sat in bed with her laptop, quietly browsing and occasionally furrowing her brow as she read.

"Work or pleasure?"

She glanced up, startled. "Christine still asleep?"

"Uh huh. Work or pleasure?" Booth repeated his question.

"Neither." Brennan bit her lip.

"I know that look." Booth settled down next to her in the bed. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't realize how serious this was. You weren't joking about the penalties." Her voice wavered. "I'm sorry."

"It's OK." He pressed a quick kiss to her temple.

"It's not." She shook her head, stubbornly trying to keep tears from appearing in her eyes.

"You're worried."

All she could do was nod.

"Come here."

She put her head on his chest, letting him wrap his arms around her.

"It's going to be OK," he soothed, gently rubbing her back as she began to sniffle.

"But … it's not OK now."

"It will be." He tilted her chin up towards his face. "You're not going to prison."

"P-promise?"

He laughed. "I didn't let you deliver Christine in one, did I? You're certainly not going to deliver her sister in one."

"Completely different circumstances."

"Still." He kissed her forehead. "It's going to be OK."

She swiped at the tears on her cheeks. "Damn hormones."

"I'm not sure this is all pregnancy hormones … ow!" He made a face as she pinched him.

"Take it back."

"OK, OK. It's all hormones."

* * *

_I spent a fair amount of time looking up the crimes and penalties in the DC area — I apologize if things seem unclear. For the sake of the story, I'm probably taking a few liberties with the law. (Sorry to any lawyers or officers who know DC law!)_


	6. Chapter 6

_Finally back with an update — howdy, y'all! (Sorry. I may or may not have spent the last week in Texas for work. That's probably why I decided to go a particular way with the judge in this chapter.)_

_Thanks for your patience. I hate to make anyone wait for a week. I intended to have this chapter really introduce the judge, but oh well … guess we're getting him in the next round! As always, thanks for reading, following, and reviewing._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"You know I don't like it when you …"

"I'm fine." Brennan continued her pacing, hands resting on her stomach.

"Still makes me nervous."

"I appreciate your honesty, but it's not going to stop me. Besides, your daughter won't stop kicking. I'm irrationally hoping this will settle her down."

"I like how she's 'my daughter' when she's bothering you." Booth smiled. "Can I get you anything?"

"If it was possible, I'd appreciate you finding Caroline." Brennan glanced at the clock. "She's almost 20 minutes late."

"I know." Booth sighed. "Let's just hope that's a good sign."

Booth's office door flew open, revealing a flustered Caroline.

"Hi, glad you could make it."

She glared at Booth, and then glanced at Brennan. "Everything alright?"

"She's just pacing," Booth explained. "Normal."

"Right." Caroline plopped into one of the chairs in front of Booth's desk, pulling paperwork out of her briefcase. "Good news first — we have a date."

"That's good news?" Booth looked skeptical.

"Yes. It's a meeting with the judge," Caroline explained. "He'll decide if she gets a court date. Obviously, we're hoping he decides no."

Brennan ceased pacing. "Which judge?"

Caroline avoided eye contact with Brennan. "Well …"

"Caroline, spit it out. Which judge?"

"Andrews."

Putting his head in his hands, Booth groaned.

"You know he doesn't like me!" Brennan looked despairingly at Caroline. "Please, there has to be another judge."

"Oh trust me, I know and I tried. Matthias is out with pneumonia, Jones took a leave of absence after the death of his mother, and they're being very vague about Wilcox — personally, I'm guessing he's just out playing golf on the beach with his skanky girlfriend."

Brennan resumed her pacing.

"We'll coach you through it, Bones."

"I don't need coaching."

"Dr. Brennan, you absolutely need coaching. You cannot afford to piss off Judge Andrews."

"Too late. He already dislikes me."

"And we can change that."

"How?" Even Booth looked skeptical.

Caroline turned to look at Brennan. "Baby Duck and I will be instructing you. And you _will_ do what we say."

"When's her meeting?"

"Tomorrow." Caroline looked at her watch. "This time tomorrow, she'll be in the judge's chambers."

"How'd you land her a meeting so fast?"

"I may have fibbed a bit," Caroline admitted. "Pulled the pregnancy card. Told Andrews that Dr. Brennan's close to delivery and has been experiencing contractions."

"That's not a lie," Brennan assured Caroline. "I am close, and I have experienced contractions."

"Oh good. I hate lying to a judge."

* * *

Under strict orders from Caroline, Angela showed up at the Brennan-Booth household the morning of the meeting with Judge Andrews. Much to Brennan's dismay, she went through several outfit changes, since none of her own selections met Angela's stringent criteria. Having finally decided on a dress, Angela styled Brennan's hair and completely re-did her makeup.

"I'm not in trouble for like, accessory to the crime, am I?"

"For the third time, no." Brennan sighed, smoothing away the wrinkles in her dress.

"Good. I mean, I'm fine going to jail, but I'd like a heads up. You know, a chance to put my affairs in order, get the jet ready, flee the country, take you with me, all that good stuff."

"No one's going to jail." Brennan looked at her reflection in the mirror. "Please tell me you're not going to make me change again."

"Turn around." Angela surveyed her best friend. "Hmm. I think we're good, but let's get a second opinion."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "You're taking this entirely too seriously."

"When Caroline Julian tells me to do something, I do it." Angela strode toward the door, opening it. "Booth!"

"You're really making him inspect me? This is absurd."

Angela put both hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows. "A simple 'Thank you for helping me prepare for the judge and not go to jail, Angela,' would suffice."

Brennan sighed, bringing one hand to her face to rub one of her eyes.

"I spent ten minutes putting that makeup on you — do _not_ smudge it!"

"Sorry." Brennan guiltily withdrew her hand.

"Knock, knock." Booth entered the room, holding a giggling Christine.

"Whatcha think? Is she a knock out or what?" Angela grinned.

"Considering she's about to go see an old man, I really don't like that term." Booth's eyes roamed up and down. "Put a sweater on?"

Angela shook her head. "Caroline was very specific. She told me to show her off."

"Well, you did that."

"Relax, G-man. It's just a dress."

Brennan squirmed uncomfortably. "It's tight."

"It's supposed to be." Angela patted Brennan's shoulder sympathetically. "You're three weeks from your due date. Everything is tight."

"Booth's sweatpants aren't."

"Not acceptable clothing for this situation, Bren."

"I know. But you better believe that's what I'm wearing the minute I get home." She looked longingly at the neatly folded sweatpants on the bed.

"Doesn't Mommy look nice?" Booth prompted Christine.

"Uh huh." Christine smiled. "I like your lipstick."

"Thank you." Brennan placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "That is all your Aunt Angela's doing."

"So grateful." Angela rolled her eyes at Booth.

"We're very grateful, Angela." Booth assured her, glancing at his watch. "We probably need to head out. Gotta get Christine to school and then meet Caroline."

"Right." Brennan looked around the room for her messenger bag. "I'm ready."

"Shoes?" He prompted, pointing to her bare feet.

"Oh. Right."

"I'm on it." Angela headed for Brennan's closet.

"If you want me in heels, you'll have to knock me unconscious and force them on my feet. I'm not wearing them."

"As much as they would be a nice touch, I wouldn't dare make you wear heels." Angela held up a pair of flats triumphantly. "These."

Brennan frowned. "Those are not comfortable."

"You can suffer through them for an hour or so," Angela insisted.

"Ang, they …"

"No complaining or I'm making you change!"

"OK, OK!"

* * *

"Now, he's Southern, so …"

"So I put on what some might deem my Sunday best and did my hair and makeup in order to appeal to his outdated view of women," Brennan interrupted Sweets. "I'm so sick of all this psychology! It's just a judge!"

"Do I need to remind you that you're facing serious charges?" Caroline stood up, tossing a folder on Booth's desk. "You're not off the hook. This judge determines your future. Baby Duck is trying to keep you from sitting in jail so that you can stay home with your husband and daughter … and have that second daughter at home."

"They're not going to put me in jail."

"Dr. Brennan!" Sweets looked ready to explode. "I don't think you understand! They can and they _will_ put you in jail if we don't suck up to Judge Andrews. Do you want to go to jail?"

"Of course not."

"Will you listen and let us help you?"

Silently, Brennan nodded.

"Good. I know you hate this, but we're trying to help."

Brennan bit her lip and looked down at Booth's desk.

"I'm sorry." Sweets exhaled, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have yelled."

The coaching session went on for two hours. Caroline peppered Brennan with questions, and Sweets analyzed and reshaped Brennan's responses.

"Uncle," Booth finally begged for mercy, rubbing his eyes. "I'm tired and I'm not even doing anything."

"We still have an hour before she has to leave for her appointment," Sweets reminded.

"And I hereby declare a bathroom and coffee break." Booth stood, arching his back and rolling his shoulders. "Everyone take 15." He helped Brennan up and gave her a quick hug. "You're doing great."

"I'm exhausted."

"I know." Booth glanced at the clock in his office. "If you hurry, you can take a 10 minute power nap on my shoulder."

She smiled. "Wonderful."

The two split ways — Booth heading for the coffee, and Brennan for the bathroom. He beat everyone back to the office, and stayed still when Brennan sat down next to him, stole a sip of his coffee, and put her head on his shoulder.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" he murmured, gently stroking her hair.

"Two hours."

"You don't look like it."

"That's because Angela applied a large portion of concealer. She said she covered my raccoon eyes."

"You should have woken me."

"No reason to have us both tired."

"I hate that you were too worried to sleep."

"That wasn't it." Eyes still closed, she reached for Booth's hand and placed it on her stomach. "Your daughter wouldn't stop her gymnastics routine."

"Was it that or contractions?"

"Mainly her moving around and jumping on my organs. Contractions weren't bad last night."

"Maybe you could get out of this meeting with the judge by faking labor."

She opened her eyes and smiled sleepily. "Oh … I've thought about it."

* * *

_Hey jsboneslover: I got inspired by part of your last review and threw part of it into this chapter. Hope that's OK! :)_

_To everyone in the US: When I first posted this, I wished y'all a happy Bones Monday and asked who was ready to see the dance episode ... whoops! laurenpayne reminded me that we're on hiatus right now and that episode happens in January. BUMMER. (But thank you for the reminder, laurenpayne!) So to the rest of y'all who write ... keep writing. Let's keep each other entertained during the hiatus!_


	7. Chapter 7

_I hadn't intended to post today, but I found myself getting sucked into some pretty depressing stats for a work project, and finishing this chapter gave me a much needed break. (I'm currently gathering research statistics on human trafficking in the US. That'll get anyone down and depressed. And yes, if you're not aware that it happens — and not just in the US but also all over the world — it does. Look it up. Inform yourselves. Stand up against injustice. Actually, Emily Deschanel recently tweeted a White House petition related to this human rights issue in Congo … and if you haven't signed it, I'd urge you to do so.)_

_Sorry to get on my political/personal soapbox. On to happier things … like Brennan finally meeting Judge Andrews! Uh oh._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"I'm sorry, Ms. Julian. It appears that court went long, which means they are just now taking lunch."

It was almost three p.m., and Brennan's appointment with the judge was delayed by over an hour. As the judge's secretary apologized, Brennan found herself daydreaming about going home and longing to sit on the couch with her feet up. Fatigued didn't even begin to cover how she felt; in fact, in her sleep-deprived state, she couldn't find a word to adequately describe her sheer exhaustion.

"We understand." Caroline gave the secretary her best I'm-trying-so-hard-not-to-be-a-fake smile.

"Can I get you anything while you wait? Coffee, water?"

"Coffee would be great. Caroline?" Booth questioned.

"Yes."

"And you, Dr. Brennan?"

Longing for real coffee, she gave a defeated smile. "Water, please."

"I'll go with you to get them." Booth stood up from the hallway bench and followed the secretary down the corridor, glancing over his shoulder at Caroline. "Two sugars?"

"One sugar, two Splendas. I'm watching my figure."

"You got it."

After a minute of silence, Brennan finally turned to Caroline. "How much longer do you think Judge Andrews will be?"

"Depends on how bad court was to him this morning, and if they finished it."

"Booth will need to leave soon to pick up Christine." Unconsciously, Brennan pursed her lips, and the gesture didn't go unnoticed.

"You're nervous," Caroline said incredulously.

Quickly, Brennan shook her head. "No."

"Yes," Caroline insisted. "You are."

"I would just prefer that Booth be here."

"Because you're nervous."

"Because he knows me better than you do and can give me better nonverbal cues."

"Eh, fair enough."

The two looked up as Booth and the secretary came back into view. The secretary was happily chatting away, while Booth made every attempt to look interested.

"Here you go." The overly friendly woman handed Brennan a bottled water. "Your husband tells me baby number two is a girl, too! I have two girls!"

"Oh?" Brennan uncapped the water, taking a greedy gulp.

"Yes. Girls are the best!"

"That they are." Booth handed Caroline a steaming mug. "Careful — it's like boiling lava."

"That's impossible … it would have melted the ceramic …" Brennan trailed off, seeing Caroline's stare. "Right. Figure of speech."

Booth resumed his seat next to Brennan. "Thanks for the beverages, Anna."

"Yes, thank you." Brennan quickly gave the secretary a grateful smile.

"Of course. Let me know if there's anything else!"

As the cheery woman disappeared back into the office, Caroline smirked at Booth. "Charmer."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Well done. If she likes us, maybe she'll put in a good word with Andrews."

Booth caught Brennan staring longingly at the mug in his hands, completely unaware of the words that had just been exchanged. "Hey."

Brennan blinked, breaking her focus. "Sorry, what?"

"You can't have the whole cup, but I'll let you have a couple sips."

"It's OK. I can go without it."

"You slept two hours last night. A couple sips of coffee isn't going to hurt anyone. And I'd say you've earned it." He held the cup close to her face, and she inhaled slowly.

"Mmmm."

He grinned. "Careful, it's hot as lava."

She rolled her eyes. "So I heard."

Several minutes passed, and Booth finally broke the silence. "I'm going to need to get Christine."

"I know."

"Do you want me to call Angela?"

Brennan shook her head. "We didn't arrange for that earlier. I don't want Christine to think something's wrong because one of us isn't there to get her from school."

"Want me to drop her off with Angela and come straight back here?"

Brennan looked to Caroline. "What do you think?"

"It's not good form to interrupt the judge and join us late," Caroline mused. "But at this rate, maybe you'll beat the judge back here and be able to sit in with us."

"Good deal." Booth stood, and gently pulled Brennan up with him into an embrace. "I'll see you soon. And if I'm not here … knock it outta the park, OK?"

"I don't know what that means."

"Same concept as hitting a home run."

"Oh." She nodded understandingly. "I will."

"I know you will." He glanced around the hallway, and then cupped Brennan's cheek to kiss her lips. "Love you."

"Love you, too." She returned the kiss.

"Don't mind me," Caroline grumbled.

Impishly, Booth grinned. "You get my wife out of these charges and I'll kiss you, too."

Brennan cocked her head. "Not around me."

"Of course not. Hey, I gotta run."

"I know. Tell Christine we'll all be home soon."

* * *

Finally inside the judge's chambers and off the rigid wooden hallway bench, Brennan tried not to squirm as she rolled her tense shoulders and neck.

"Just remember — you're not rational Dr. Brennan today," Caroline urged quietly as they waited for the judge. "Tap into that mommy, emotional, sweet side."

Brennan nodded, then jumped as the door banged open. Immediately following Caroline's lead, she hauled herself to her feet, putting on a smile as the judge entered.

"Ms. Julian, Dr. Brennan." The judge exhaled with a loud sigh, and extended a hand to Caroline. "I cannot believe it's taken this long. I'd apologize, but it's not my fault. You familiar with the Roberts construction case?"

Brennan glanced at Caroline, who nodded vigorously. "Oh yes."

"That is what I've been dealing with all day ... all week. A bunch of green lawyers who somehow got their scrawny, no good asses assigned to this case. Won't stop fighting or bickering. Threw one of them out today, and gave two others warnings."

"_Of course that had to be today,"_ thought Caroline, her initial confidence sinking. _"We couldn't have a worse day to see him."_

"Miserable. Just miserable." The judge walked over to a cabinet and reached for the decanter, clinking it against a glass as he poured the amber liquid. "It's only four, but I assume you understand my rationale for drinking."

"I'd make it a double. The case sounds like purgatory."

"I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Except maybe Wilcox." The judge glanced over his shoulder at Caroline. "Care for a drink?"

"No, thank you."

"I'd offer you one, Dr. Brennan, but …" As he walked back toward his desk, his eyes rested on Brennan's hands, clasped under her protruding abdomen. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." She smiled pleasantly.

"Oh, please, sit. I'm sorry." As he realized his two guests were still standing, he waved his hand quickly, motioning for the women to return to their seats. "Like I said, it's been a hell of a day." He put down his whiskey and reached for the zipper on his robe. "Pardon me, but I've got to get out of this. Too damn hot, and I've got to be leaving shortly." He walked over to find a hanger on the other side of the office. "So, Dr. Brennan — you, uh … look ready to deliver."

"Three more weeks." She hesitated. "Though I'm thinking it will be earlier."

"Ah." He nodded. "Thinking or hoping?"

"Both."

"And are you feeling well?"

"I …"

"She's doing well," Caroline interrupted. "Even with the contractions."

Brennan shot Caroline a withering look, which the prosecutor simply ignored.

"Ah, but that's normal given that you're close." The judge smiled knowingly, catching Caroline's weak appeal for sympathy. "And how is your daughter, Temperance? How old is she now?"

Before she could open her mouth, Sweets' final plea came rushing into her head. _"And for the love of God, Dr. Brennan, don't correct him when he doesn't use your title."_ She swallowed, pausing before she said, "Christine is three and a half, and is doing very well."

"Excited about the little one coming?" The judge walked back to his desk and took a sip of the whiskey as he sat down.

"Yes. She's exuberant about having a sister."

"Ah, two girls. That's what my daughter has." He motioned to a photo on his bookshelf. "Sophie is seven and Annabelle is three. And a grandson on the way."

"They're beautiful children," Caroline complemented.

"Thankfully they take after their mother." Judge Andrews reached across the desk for a folder. "Now ladies, I've admitted I'm very tired. I also have an early evening engagement to keep."

Caroline nodded. "Thank you for meeting us on such short notice."

"Had to." The judge glanced through the paperwork in the folder. "I've looked over this briefly, but not the details. Mainly just the charges. That's why I made time in my schedule."

Brennan wasn't following the judge's line of thought, and cast a questioning look in Caroline's direction.

"Ms. Brennan, these are serious charges."

"Yes, but …"

"Ms. Julian, I'd appreciate it if you let her talk. I'd like to hear what was going on in her head when all of this happened. Not yours."

Shocked, Caroline closed her mouth immediately and nodded.

"With all due respect," Brennan hesitated, and then decided to push forward. "My statement should be right there in front of you."

"I don't care about your statement. I'd like for you to tell me what happened in your own words. Your statement …" Judge Andrews came to a halt as his phone chirped. "One moment." He glanced at the screen, peering at a message through his glasses. "Well, shit." He stood, and walked toward a small door in his chambers, still carrying the whiskey glass. "I've got less time than I thought and need to get ready for tonight's engagement. Proceed — I'll continue listening."

Caroline looked slightly bewildered as the judge opened the door, revealing a small closet containing a tux and several suits. Judge Andrews ripped off the dry cleaner's plastic from the tux, and began to unbutton his shirt.

"Does this bother you?" He glared in the direction of the two women.

"No," Brennan quickly replied, not phased in the least.

"Then proceed with your story while I multitask."

Brennan began to talk, carefully reciting what she had practiced with Sweets earlier in the day. Caroline sat in silence, deliberately staring at her hands in an attempt not to look at the half-undressed judge.

"I get the general gist of this," Judge Andrew interrupted, taking a swig of whiskey before starting in on the buttons of his tuxedo shirt. "You were careless and you weren't thinking."

"Careless?" Brennan's tone changed, and Caroline leaned her head back in her chair, mentally willing Brennan to keep quiet. "No, your honor, I am never careless."

"You took a federal vehicle without authorization, used it for a personal matter, and thereby impersonated a federal agent. You drove recklessly and endangered others on the road. You were _careless_."

"Were you present when your granddaughter broke her leg?"

Two buttons away from being finished, Judge Andrews stopped buttoning his shirt. "Excuse me?"

"Sophie, your granddaughter. Were you there when she broke her leg?"

"How could you possibly know that?"

Pointing to another photo on the bookshelf of the two girls at the beach, Brennan began to prove her point. "Her right leg is smaller, shrunken, to be more precise. Starting at her mid thigh, the skin is lighter than her left leg, indicating that her right leg has been concealed while her left was exposed. Her stance and weight are shifted left, even though her right leg is probably healed. She was used to bearing weight on her left due to the injury on her right side, and that side is still weaker." She paused, squinting her eyes at the photograph. "If I were to examine the photo at close range, I might be able to see dead skin on the right leg, proving her cast had been removed recently. And judging by her stance and the leg's smaller shape, it was a serious break, though I don't see scars indicating a compound fracture."

"The scar is on the back of her leg." Judge Andrews gulped the rest of his whiskey. "And that photo was taken a week after the cast came off. To quote the surgeon, it was a horrific break."

"She looks to be about five in the photograph, which means she broke it at a critical growth period. I am certain the doctors were very concerned about proper healing."

The judge nodded. "Sophie limped for months, even with physical therapy."

"But now she looks well." Brennan nodded in the direction of the other photograph. "She has adjusted her stance, and while I can't see all of her leg, she doesn't favor one side with her weight. If it hadn't healed properly, it would show."

The judge was silent, then turned to Brennan. "What's your point?"

"I asked you a question, your honor. Were you there when Sophie broke her leg?"

"Yes."

"If you had a vehicle with a siren, would you have used it to get her to a hospital?"

Finally seeing Brennan's strategy, Caroline was hopeful. She forced herself to remain silent and keep a straight face when all she wanted to do was jump up and hug the bold anthropologist.

Judge Andrews stared at Brennan, his look of disbelief slowly changing into a look that Caroline couldn't quite read. "It doesn't matter what I would have done, Ms. Brennan. I am not the one sitting in a judge's chambers having to beg for a light sentence."

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think about Judge Andrews. Any guesses as to what's going to happen?_


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks for all the reviews and follows. Based on the last chapter's reviews, y'all are really getting into the story! Thanks for guessing, suggesting, and talking things out with me … it helps me write, and that's wonderful. I'm very tempted to use some of the thoughts left in the reviews, so stay tuned – one or two might pop up next chapter._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

In a moment of sheer despair, Caroline had subjected herself to something she never did — she begged the judge for another appointment. The judge had brushed her off, saying he had been more than accommodating, had adequately listened, and would make his decision shortly.

Brennan had simply remained silent, remembering Sweets' advice to keep quiet if and when she got angry. She had enough presence of mind to thank Judge Andrews for his time before he left the chambers, leaving them once again with the secretary.

"Judge Andrews will be in touch with you, Ms. Julian." Anna's smile was sympathetic. "Sometime this evening."

Wordlessly, Caroline stepped out into the hallway with Brennan directly behind her.

"Hey." Booth's relieved tone echoed in the hallway.

Brennan reached for him instinctively, and he crushed her to his chest as best he could, given the nearly full term baby between them.

"You did it." He kissed her forehead. "Let's go home."

She nodded into his chest.

"You OK?"

She shrugged, still silent.

"Caroline, how'd she do?" He slid one arm around Brennan's shoulders, supporting her as they walked down the hallway toward the parking lot.

"Knocked it out of the park."

A proud grin crossed his face. "Of course she did."

"Unfortunately the judge isn't a fan of home runs."

"Everyone's a fan of home runs."

Brennan shook her head sadly. "Perhaps I hit one for the wrong team."

Booth came to an immediate stop. "What happened?"

"She knocked it out of the park," Caroline repeated. "Andrews is an soulless asshole."

"Shh!" Booth hushed, ushering Caroline and Brennan out the door and into the parking lot.

"I don't care if he hears!"

"I do!" Booth grabbed Caroline's arm. "Tell me what happened."

"Booth." Brennan's voice was muffled, her head still buried in his chest. "Please. I want to go home."

"OK." He glanced at Caroline, letting go of her arm. "What's the news?"

"We wait to hear from the judge."

"What? You were there for three hours!"

"Three and a half," Caroline corrected. "And yes, to quote Anna, 'Judge Andrews will be in touch with you, Ms. Julian.'"

"Asshole."

"Mmmhmm. I told you."

"So he didn't tell give her a sentence?"

"No. He'll likely send a page to my office tonight."

"You let me know when you get that page."

"Of course." Caroline nodded. "Take her home. You did well, Dr. Brennan."

"Thank you."

* * *

The car ride home was quiet. Brennan briefly explained the meeting, and accepted Booth's praise for keeping her composure during the ordeal.

"He didn't apologize for being late?"

"No. He said it wasn't his fault."

"Bastard. Making my pregnant wife wait for over three hours with no apology."

"I'm fine."

"You're exhausted. Sitting on a bench for two hours and having a stressful meeting made it worse."

"You're right."

"How's your back?"

"Hurts," she admitted, leaning her head against the car window.

"I figured. How's our jack-o'-lantern?"

She smiled drowsily. "She's fine. Still moving."

"You let your momma rest tonight, OK?" Booth's right hand left the steering wheel to rest on Brennan's stomach. "She's very tired."

"I'm sure she's listening."

"She better be."

* * *

When the two arrived at home, Booth headed to the kitchen, assisting Angela with final dinner preparations. Brennan promptly went to the couch, slipped out of her flats, and propped her swollen feet up with a pillow.

"Hi Mommy." Christine greeted her mother with a kiss. "Your feet hurt?"

"Just a little. How was school?"

"Good." Christine reached for a folder on the coffee table. "I did my homework."

"May I see?"

"Yes." The little girl handed Brennan the blue folder. "Miss May needs your name."

"My name?" Brennan mused, flipping through the papers in the folder. "Ah. This?" She held up a sheet for Christine to inspect.

"Yes."

"Do you remember the big word for needing my name?"

Pondering, Christine furrowed her brow.

"Want a hint?"

"Uh huh."

"The first part of the word is 'sig,'" Brennan prompted.

"Nature!" Christine exclaimed brightly. "Sig-nature!"

"Right." Brennan smiled. "Let's say it again. Signature."

Christine repeated the word, this time much closer to the correct pronunciation.

"Very good." Under Christine's watchful gaze, Brennan took a pen from her purse and signed the form declaring her permission for the field trip next week. "What's this say?"

"Your name."

"Which is?"

"Temp-per-rance Brennan."

"So smart!" Angela praised, overhearing the conversation as she carried two plates into the den. "Michael still has a little trouble saying my first name."

"'Mom' is a lot easier than 'Angela,'" Booth remarked, entering with another two plates.

"True." Angela passed one plate to Brennan, and then sat down on the floor next to Christine. "Did you show your mom the homework?"

Christine nodded. "Aunt Angie helped, Mommy."

"She didn't tell you the answers, did she?" Brennan gave Angela a wry smile.

"Of course not."

"It looks great, Christine." Brennan studied the sheet where her daughter had practiced the letter "M."

"It's lots of 'm's,'" Christine explained to Booth.

"Ah. That one's kind of hard."

Christine shook her head. "Easy. You practice, Daddy."

Angela laughed out loud, and then planted a kiss on Christine's head. "Sweet girl, you are just like your mother."

The four ate around the couch, listening as Christine occasionally babbled about school in between bites of food. Angela and Booth went to clean up the kitchen, leaving Brennan reading to Christine on the couch.

"When's Caroline coming?" Angela asked in a hushed tone.

"Whenever she hears back from the judge."

"When will that be?"

Booth shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"But she did well?"

"Caroline said so."

"That's good." Angela wiped her hands on a dishtowel. "It's just cruel to make her wait."

"I agree."

"You sure you don't want Hodgins to look into …"

"Angela." Booth shook his head with a laugh. "No. But thank you."

"Or I could go commit a crime to distract them."

"That wouldn't work."

"You underestimate me … I can be very bad."

"That I don't doubt." Booth ducked from Angela's playful smack with the dishtowel. "Plus, I'd have to report you."

"You could look the other way. Or I could go commit a crime right in front of the police station and they'd have to take care of it."

"I don't think that would work either, but I appreciate the thoughtfulness."

"Anytime. Want me to entertain the kiddo until Caroline gets here? "

"It's almost her bedtime. How about you supervise her bath while I con Brennan into using the Jacuzzi?"

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

It didn't take much work on Booth's part to get Brennan upstairs and into their tub. Upon stepping in, she let out a satisfied sigh, which immediately tempted Booth.

"Uh uh." Brennan noticed Booth's roving eyes and kissed his lips chastely before settling into the water. "Don't try to distract me."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She rolled her eyes. "Go fix Christine's lunch for tomorrow. I think there's laundry to be folded, too."

"You're no fun."

"Oh, I'm lots of fun." She slid a bit further down into the tub. "But right now, this water and these jets trump any other kind of fun."

"Call if you need anything."

She shook her head with a smile. "I'm fine!"

"I know. And I'm coming up in 20 minutes to make sure you haven't fallen asleep."

"Probably a good idea."

* * *

Angela and Christine made it back downstairs before Brennan.

"She doesn't splash," Angela remarked to Booth, helping him match up a pile of socks. "Even after making bubbles, washing her hair, and getting her out of the tub — my shirt is still dry."

"Nope. She hasn't done that in a while. Probably a year or two."

"This baffles me. Michael still splashes."

"He's a boy. Baths probably aren't high on his list of favorite things. Plus, Hodgins has probably taught him all kinds of weird things like how to be a whale in the bathtub and how to squirt water really far with his hands."

"I need a girl," Angela mused out loud.

"Yeah, you do."

A few minutes later, Brennan came down the staircase to join the trio, looking relaxed for the first time in two days.

"That's a good look for you, sweetie." Angela grinned and pointed to the conspicuous gap between Booth's borrowed sweatpants and her tank top.

"Don't say you haven't done it."

"Guilty as charged."

"I," Brennan sat down on the couch with a sigh, "am finally comfortable."

"Good."

Having patiently waited, Christine handed Brennan the book from earlier. "Finish?"

"Sure." Brennan flipped through the pages as Christine snuggled up against her mother's side. "After this, bedtime."

"OK."

As Brennan read the last few pages to Christine, Angela got up to boil water for tea. Booth nursed a glass of whiskey while flipping through paperwork.

"That's the end." Brennan closed the book and planted a kiss on Christine's forehead. "Daddy's going to put you to bed. I love you."

Christine returned the kiss, and then leaned to kiss Brennan's stomach. "Love you. Night."

"Goodnight." Brennan smiled as Booth carried Christine into the kitchen to tell Angela goodnight.

"Such a sweetheart," Angela cooed, bringing two steaming mugs into the den. "You don't even have to bribe her to kiss you goodnight. I want one."

"A sweetheart? You have Hodgins."

"A girl. I want a daughter."

"Oh." Brennan smiled absentmindedly, rubbing her stomach. "They're nice."

"Ever think you'll have a boy?"

"We're content with Parker." Brennan slurped the tea, trying not to burn her mouth. "And we kind of consider Michael a son."

"Well, good. That was the goal."

Booth's phone buzzed, and Angela looked up. "Should I …?"

"Yes. Hopefully it's Caroline."

Angela jumped up to grab the phone from the island. "Booth's phone." She paused, gave a brief nod, and continued, "Yes, they're here. Come on over." She returned the phone to the island, and then joined Brennan back on the couch. "She's on her way."

"I wish she had given us the news over the phone."

"Maybe she doesn't know it yet." Angela paused. "Are you worried?"

"A little," Brennan admitted. "I'd just like to know."

"Booth says you did well today."

"I did. Even Caroline said so."

"Then I'm sure things will be fine." Angela moved to give Brennan a reassuring squeeze around her shoulders. "God, you're tight."

"Long day."

"Turn your back toward me. I'm fixing your shoulders."

"You don't …"

"Uh uh, no arguing. You know I have great masseuse hands."

"Mmmm." Brennan couldn't help the satisfied sound that slipped from her lips. "OK … I surrender. Go right ahead."

Booth came back downstairs, grinning at Brennan's noises. "Angela has magic fingers, too?"

"_Ahhhhh_ … yes."

"Want to fix my shoulders, Ang?"

"No," Brennan protested. "I'm going to use her skills until I fall asleep."

"That's kind of selfish."

"I'm delivering your child. I get to be selfish."

"Fair enough."

"Hey, Caroline called," Angela interrupted. "She's on her way."

"To the house? Did she tell you anything?"

"No, she said she's bringing the judge's correspondence here."

"Right." Booth sat back down at the island. "Guess I'll finish paperwork."

The den was quiet, minus Angela's occasional, "Is this OK?" "Relax your muscles, Bren" and the scratch of Booth's pen making notes and signatures.

A knock signaled Caroline's arrival, and the door swung open.

"In here!" Booth called out.

The haggard lawyer walked into the den, stopping as she reached the island. "Evening."

"Let's get straight to it." Booth eyed the manila folder in Caroline's hands. "Is that the news?"

Caroline nodded silently.

"Have you read it?"

Another nod.

Booth watched as both Angela and Brennan's faces fell at Caroline's uncomfortable silence. He swallowed, trying to remain expressionless. "What's it say?"

"How about you … " She held it out to him.

"No." Brennan's insistent voice interrupted. "No more waiting, no more delaying. What's it say?"

Caroline withdrew a sheet from the folder, trying to keep her voice steady as she read, "By the order of Honorable Judge Josiah F. Andrews …" Her voice cracked. "Doctor Temperance Brennan is to report to the Department of Corrections at nine a.m. tomorrow."

* * *

_Yikes, I went there! Don't shoot me._

_Anyone catch my "The Prisoner in the Pipe" reference? (Virtual high five to the people who find it!)_


	9. Chapter 9

_Good gracious! You guys are NOT a fan of the judge. (And hey, you shouldn't be. If you like him, then I have failed as a writer.)_

_Shout out to everyone who reviewed, asked questions, and gave me ideas. I know y'all don't want a long author's note, so my specific thanks are at the end of the chapter._

_Angela's kind of all over the place and a wild woman in this chapter, but I like it. I hope you do, too._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

The normally composed and tough as nails anthropologist suddenly paled, involuntarily putting a hand to her mouth in shock.

Temporarily forgetting her best friend duties, Angela overlooked the fact that she was sitting next to Brennan and let out a low, nearly indecipherable moan of, "Oh God!" and buried her face into the couch cushion.

Longingly, Caroline eyed Booth's whiskey.

"How?" Booth was finally the first to speak. "How could this happen?"

A choice obscenity flew out of Angela's mouth. "I swear, I'll kill him! You three are witnesses — if that bastard is missing in the morning, you know what happened! They'll have lock me up before she goes to jail!"

"Ang … that would not prudent."

"Stop it!" Angela turned to Brennan. "For once in your life, please don't think and just react!"

"She did, for all of five seconds," Caroline muttered under her breath. "You missed it."

Booth finally got off the barstool and went to sit next to Brennan, immediately wrapping his arms around her.

"Considering everything in my past, I really didn't think this would be why I'd be sent to prison." Brennan accepted his embrace gratefully and put her head on his chest.

"This is all my fault." Angela sniffled and wiped her eyes as she looked at Caroline. "Isn't there some sort of clause where I can take her place?"

"Not that I'm aware of. You're welcome to scour the law review tonight and call me if you find it, though."

"Bren." Angela shook her head. "I'm so sorry."

"This isn't your fault."

"It never would have happened if I hadn't called you."

"Both of you arguing over it isn't going to do any good." Booth leaned back into the couch, trying not to look defeated. "Caroline … please, sit. And help yourself to the whiskey."

She did, pouring a good amount before tossing the damning piece of paper on the island and going to sit in the loveseat. "I'm very sorry."

"It's not your fault either." Brennan sighed. "However, is there anything we can do?"

Angela reiterated her willingness to kill the judge and go to prison. When the group protested, she then, as a second option, volunteered Hodgins to bribe the judge with money.

"You know you can't bribe a judge."

"Can't? Or shouldn't? Because those two are very different things."

"I'm gonna lose my job," Caroline groaned. "And it'll be y'alls fault. Primarily you. You need to calm down." She glared at Angela, who returned the look.

"Temperance Brennan is the reason I work at the Jeffersonian." Angela stood up and walked to the middle of the room, demanding Caroline's attention. "Without her, I would be nothing."

"Ang, that's …"

"Let me finish!" Looking at Brennan, Angela took a deep breath and continued. "I have a stable career, which I love, despite its challenging and sometimes downright God-awful nature. I have security, which I've never had in my life. I have a best friend who has listened to my craziness, put up with my bohemian spirit, and patiently coached me to be a better, reliable person. She has been the steady voice of reason in my life for so long, most recently when I called her two days ago, hysterically demanding her immediate presence. She's the kind of person who drops everything and answers, even when I'm crazy enough not to even tell her why I need her or what's wrong. She has taught me there's more to life than running all over the world doing what I want to do. She's helped me recognize there's a purpose for my gifts and talents, and has showed me that I can't be selfish with them. I'm supposed to use and share them with others and for the betterment of others and the world. She's the reason I have Hodgins — and not simply because we all work together and that's how I met him — she's the very reason he's still alive today and not dead in the backseat of a buried car. And because she's the reason I have Hodgins, she's also the reason I have Michael. I cannot and do not want to imagine life without the two of them."

Caroline was staring at Angela, mouth slightly open, in a rare state of complete silence.

"So, Caroline, pardon me for not being calm about this. Pardon me for entertaining ideas, legal and illegal, about how to get her off the hook when she's done so much for me. Pardon me for being concerned over my best friend, to whom I owe my happiness and entire life." With that, Angela strode to the island to pour herself a drink.

"Cher, I owe you an apology." Caroline finally spoke, still staring at Angela. "You're right. And that was beautiful."

"I meant every word."

"I know you did." Caroline turned to look at Booth and Brennan, who were sitting quietly on the couch. "Angela's right. We are not doing this without a fight. Get your thinking caps on."

* * *

The four brainstormed for a few minutes. Attempting to lighten the mood, Booth offered to take a hit out on the judge. Following his lead, Caroline suggested having little Sophie kidnapped. Hodgins, by means of texting Angela, threw his idea into the ring and offered to self-fund a campaign running against Judge Andrews, willing to forfeit his post at the Jeffersonian if it meant beating the judge in the next election.

"If election season was closer, I'd be willing to give the crazy man's idea a go," Caroline admitted. "Especially if I thought Hodgins was electable."

"You guys." Angela interrupted with a triumphant timbre and a slightly mischievous smile. "I've got an idea."

Booth gave Angela a wary look.

"Be right back." Angela scooted off the couch and went into the kitchen, appearing a minute later with a pepper in her hand. "Here. Eat it."

"That's a jalapeño." Brennan stated the obvious.

"Uh huh. Eat it."

"Bones, if you eat that right now, you're going to have to con me into kissing you goodnight."

"Why do you want me to eat this?"

Exasperated, Angela rolled her eyes. "To start labor, of course."

"And why would she want to do that?" Booth asked. "It's a little too early."

"Our daughter is considered full-term. If she's born now, she should be fine," Brennan corrected.

"That might actually work."

All eyes turned toward Caroline.

"It would?"

"Possibly. If she goes into labor tonight or in the morning and doesn't have the baby before 9 am, I could get a health emergency or something declared." Caroline took a healthy swig of the whiskey. "Angela, I could kiss you."

Angela smiled proudly. "Thanks."

"Aren't we forgetting something big here?" Booth addressed Caroline and Angela. "We can't just get Bones to go into labor."

"Wanna bet?"

"The hot sauce trick didn't work for you with Michael."

"I didn't give her hot sauce. I gave her straight-up jalapeño, which is definitely more potent. And there are a million other things to try, not just peppers."

"Oh, what the hell." Caroline threw back the rest of the whiskey. "It's worth a shot."

"It is?" Brennan asked, halfway reaching for the pepper.

"At this point, I don't have any other recommendations. Labor sounds like your best option."

Brennan shrugged, "OK," and promptly bit into the pepper.

"Bones!"

"Atta girl!" Angela cheered. "What else ya got in the kitchen?"

"Am I the only one who thinks this is ludicrous?" Booth looked at Brennan in disbelief.

"It's worth a try. Can't hurt." Brennan coughed and her eyes watered. "Ang … milk?"

"Right." Angela quickly jogged to the kitchen to grab a glass. "Ah hah! You've got curry in the cabinet!"

"I'm not eating plain curry," Brennan protested, choking down the last bite of the jalapeño.

"No need. You can put curry on anything." Angela came back with the glass of milk, which Brennan instantly downed.

"Stop." Booth stood up, glancing around the room at the three women. "Are we really doing this?"

Caroline shrugged. "It appears so."

"Bones, you're OK with this?"

She nodded, sniffling as her nose stung and eyes continued to water. "I haven't heard a better option."

"OK then." Booth rubbed his hands together. "What do you want me to whip up for the curry?"

"Pasta," Angela promptly replied. "Just boil some water, throw in pasta, and dump curry on it."

"If you're feeling up to it, you need to take a long walk," Caroline suggested to Brennan. "Maybe just up and down the stairs. Gravity helps, right?"

"Do you have any pineapple? Or mango? Never mind, I'll just check the kitchen myself." Angela got off the couch. "You should do some yoga stretches."

Brennan finally let out a laugh. "I cannot believe I'm agreeing to this."

"Hey, it's gonna work!" Angela yelled from the kitchen. "Now get into downward facing dog or something!"

"Looks like you have this under control." Caroline stood up and picked up her purse. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going home to review my law books and pick a few lawyer brains. When your doorbell rings in an hour, answer it; it's just Chinese food."

"What?"

"Works like a charm. Put me into labor with my two sons. Drink the hot and sour soup. All of it."

"Don't you mean sweet and sour?"

"Nope, that's what's special about the soup. Hot and sour."

Booth walked Caroline to the front door. "Thanks for coming."

"I'll see you two tomorrow."

Booth nodded. "Any final advice?"

"You get that baby out of her … just not before 9 am."

* * *

"Nothing?"

Brennan sighed into the phone. "Nothing."

"Not even sex?"

"Obviously that didn't work either."

"What'd you eat for breakfast?"

"Pineapple, then toast with hot sauce and oatmeal with chili powder."

"That sounds revolting."

"It really was."

"And still nothing? God, Bren. This baby's more stubborn than Michael. You tried sex more than once, right?"

"Definitely more than once."

"Then Booth was too gentle with you."

"Don't blame it on him." Brennan glanced up as Booth pulled the vehicle into a parking lot. "Ang, I've got to go. We're here."

"Good luck. Hodgins and I are still thinking and working."

"Don't do anything stupid."

"I make no promises."

Brennan laughed. "Just don't end up in the cell next to me, OK? I need you to pick up Christine today, and you can't do that if you're in jail."

"OK, OK. Love you."

"Love you, too." Brennan hung up her phone and placed it back in her purse.

Booth heaved a sigh and parked the car. "There's Caroline."

"Let's go on inside. Sweets said good behavior, an early arrival, and demonstrating respect for the system is the way to start today."

"In a minute." Booth leaned over the console, cupped Brennan's face with his right hand, and held her waist with his left. "You know I love you, right?"

Before she could answer, Brennan felt Booth's lips on hers, desperately seeking entrance to her mouth. She complied and reached to thread both hands through his hair, fiercely matching his intensity. When his phone rang, Booth finally broke away, and Brennan let out a short gasp, her chest heaving as she caught her breath again.

"Booth." He paused, reaching for Brennan's hand. "Yeah, we're here. Meet you out front."

"Caroline," Brennan assumed.

"Yeah." He glanced at her and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "You OK?"

"Yes." She leaned to kiss his cheek. "And yes, I know you love me."

"Good." He smiled. "The feeling's mutual?"

"Of course." Brennan turned to plant a soft kiss on Booth's lips. "You know I love you."

"And that kiss didn't send you into labor?"

"You're not that good." She grinned as he pretended to look offended.

"Want to try it again?"

"We better not. If I go into labor now, they'll just take me to the healthcare facility here."

"Yeah, not happening."

* * *

The trio waited a few minutes inside while the front desk officers read through paperwork and searched computer files.

"Ms. Julian, your client is at the wrong location."

"What?" Caroline presented the letter again. "It says this address."

"The address is correct, but you need a different entrance. This is the red entrance for inmates and new processing."

"Where is she supposed to go?" Booth butted into the conversation.

"Blue entrance."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you that. All I see on my screen is that she's on the list for blue. I'd head that way right now."

The group hurried to the other entrance, Brennan and Booth immediately questioning Caroline as they sped down the sidewalk.

"What does this mean?"

"I don't know! My best guess is that they're putting you in a better cell or in a private facility."

"But blue entrance isn't for inmates."

"I know that. Your guess is as good as mine, cher." Caroline flung open the doors and hurried to the front desk, hoping they weren't late. "Caroline Julian. I'm with Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"Oh yes." Another officer pointed in the direction of metal detectors. "Dr. Brennan needs to step that way. Empty your pockets, no weapons, no liquids. Did you bring a laptop?"

Brennan looked at the officer, puzzled. "Why would I do that?"

"Well, you don't need one, but we figured you might bring it. Go ahead, step on through. Oh, and you should be finished by four."

"What?" Now Caroline looked confused. "Finished?"

"Yes, the judge said he'd leave the time up to us. Today, she finishes at four."

"So she's only serving a seven-hour sentence?"

This time, the officer looked completely lost. "Sentence?"

"I've brought her here on orders from Judge Andrews," Caroline explained, holding up the infamous letter. She slid it under the protective glass to the officer, who looked at it curiously.

"This is all you received?" he asked, flipping the letter over to examine it.

"Yes."

"You think Dr. Brennan is here to serve a sentence?"

"Yes."

The officer laughed. "Seriously? What kind of judge do you think he is?"

Booth began to mutter under his breath to Brennan, who quickly grabbed his hand in an effort to silence him.

"She's not serving a sentence?"

"No, Ms. Julian."

"Then what am I doing here?" Brennan cautiously asked.

"You're tutoring."

* * *

_See? I'm not a horrible person. Who in their right mind writes a story where a pregnant Brennan gets locked up in jail? (Actually, I'd totally read that story. If you write it, let me know.)_

_To those of you who asked me to "fix it" (ahem, Becksbones and others) — well, did I fix it enough for you yet? :) Thanks for reading and for the reviews. Everyone did an especially great job responding to the last chapter._

_If you're sad that I didn't write a sex scene … this is a T fic, so I'm not doing it in this story. Feel free to go read the light M chapter of "First Week Back" (Night 3: Payback) instead!_

_My specific thanks for this chapter goes to: _

_1. **casket4mytears**, who helped inspire Angela's long monologue with things she wrote in her chapter 7 review. She proceeded to call me an evil, wicked woman and also said that Caroline could come get me if I was being a "meanie fake out person." casket4mytears, I hope this chapter doesn't qualify as a fake out … I really don't want Caroline on my bad side. :)_

_2. **Dyna63**, who also helped with Angela's monologue by reviewing chapter 7 (and got me thinking specifically about Angela's crazy phone call to Brennan, which started this whole mess)._

_3.** cook2** for asking some really good questions, which helped confirm that I wanted this chapter to go a certain way. (It kept me from answering all of the questions … for now.)_

_4. **FaithinBones**, who gave me a solid, logical, well thought-out, and completely legal alternative to Hodgins bribing the judge. I didn't use all of it for time's sake, but it's in this chapter._


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

Booth breathed a sigh of relief. "Tutoring."

"Yeah." The officer gave the trio an odd look. "Community service. Ever heard of it?"

"Listen, all we received was an order to report to the corrections department," Caroline stated defensively. "Nothing else."

"Judge Andrews is tough, but he wouldn't lock up a pregnant woman unless she'd done something really bad. And there's no way he's locking up Dr. Brennan. Don't you normally help put guys in here?"

"That's correct."

The officer nodded. "Thought so."

"What kind of tutoring will I be doing?"

"I'm not exactly sure, ma'am."

"Will she be tutoring women?"

"Um, not sure of that either."

"And how long is this community service requirement?"

The man gave Caroline a puzzled look. "Assuming you're her attorney, it sounds to me like you and Judge Andrews need to get the details worked out together."

"Don't worry. I'm headed straight to his office after this."

"It's after nine — Dr. Brennan, you better walk through and report."

She nodded. "Right."

"Call me when you're finished?" Booth gave her a quick hug. "For the record, I am not happy about leaving you here."

"I'll be fine."

"You're in a prison. With inmates." He suddenly hesitated, then looked at one of the guards. "Is she going to have any security?"

"Someone will be in the classroom with her at all times."

"Armed? What's his training?"

"Booth." Brennan grabbed his arm. "I'm fine_._"

"Hey buddy, anything happens to her or the baby while she's inside, and I'm holding you and your superior personally responsible."

"Sir, is that a threat?"

Booth pulled out his badge. "No. I'm FBI, and she's the FBI's greatest asset. She and I put away these guys for a living, and we've both got a lot of enemies. Anything happens in there and …"

"Geez, I got it, man. I'll make sure we've got the top security for me. But hey, it's not my fault she's here for community service."

Booth glared at the guard, then turned back to Brennan. "I'm going to make a few calls to find out what I can about the details."

"OK. Tell Christine I'll see her at dinner."

Another relieved sigh left Booth's lips, as he was immediately thankful that he wasn't going to have to explain to his daughter why Brennan had disappeared. "Be safe."

She rolled her eyes, but gave him a smile anyway as she headed for the metal detector. "I will."

* * *

When Caroline arrived at the courthouse to visit Judge Andrews, the perky secretary informed her that he was already in session for the morning and was not to be disturbed. Knowing that she had to come up with the details of Brennan's community service or risk the wrath of Booth, Caroline drove to her office and immediately began calling in favors with every connection she had at the prison. After an hour, she finally had a few particulars for Booth, who had been making a few threatening phone calls himself.

"Booth?" Caroline poked her head inside his office.

"Got news?"

"Yes." Caroline stepped inside hesitantly.

"Spit it out."

"She's tutoring for some sort of standardized test that some of the inmates are taking. Wilson thinks it's science, but that's just his assumption based on Dr. Brennan's skill set."

"She can tutor anything. And who the hell is Wilson?"

"Played ball with my boys. Works at the prison in processing."

"So he's not protecting Bones?"

"No. He assures me they wouldn't let her into the room unguarded."

"I am not comfortable with this. We need to get a trained agent in there with her tomorrow."

"You mean you."

"Of course I mean me."

"I figured you'd want to save your vacation days for when Caroline Junior comes along."

"It won't count as vacation if we can get Hacker to sign off on it as a necessity."

"Oh no, cher. You're on your own with that. You know he's not fond of me."

"Can't imagine why." Booth sighed. "Who's she teaching?"

"Inmates."

"I know that. Who specifically? Did you make sure she's not locked in a room with someone she's helped arrest?"

"Yeah, still working on that. I don't have their names, but …"

"But what? Caroline, but what?"

"I think they're mostly males."

* * *

Every single inmate in the room was male.

Brennan metaphorically felt their eyes bore into her as she followed two guards into the room and walked to the front. She wasn't frightened, but she couldn't help but think about how upset Booth would be if he knew the demographics of her new students.

"This is Dr. Brennan. She's here to teach you math and science. She helps put away guys like you for a living, so behave. She knows her stuff. If you want a shot at passing, listen up and do what she says." The guard turned to Brennan. "Anything you'd like to say or ask before I pass out the materials and have them introduce themselves?"

"Yes." Brennan smiled politely. "What exactly am I teaching? Are you providing the materials?"

"GED. These guys take it in two weeks, and they've had no math or science help. Judge Andrews said you were the woman for the job. We'd like for them to pass. It really looks good for us with the standards and state board, and hey, we do want them out of here and rehabbed, you know?"

Brennan nodded. "May I ask them questions?"

"Absolutely." The guard opened a cardboard box and motioned for the other guard to come help him pass out the materials. "Listen up, Dr. Brennan would like to speak to you."

Eleven sets of eyes stared up at Brennan, most of them looking almost incredulous and somewhat nervous at the sight of her extended stomach.

"I'm Doctor Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian. I work identifying human remains, specifically in conjunction with the FBI. I've never taken the GED, but I am familiar with the sections and concepts. I have extensive teaching and research experience." She glanced around the room. "I believe that's enough about me, unless there are any questions."

A hand in the back promptly shot up.

"Yes, go ahead."

"What are you in here for?"

The question opened the proverbial can of worms.

"Dude, you got balls to say that …"

"She outta take you and …"

"Bold, son!"

"Bet she's seen some real sick ass bodies in her time."

"There goes tutoring."

"Can't you see she's pregnant and about to pop it out?"

"Shit, she's some famous chick."

"We are SOL for this test."

"Enough!" The guard who had introduced Brennan yelled, effectively silencing the room. "Did Dr. Brennan give anyone permission to talk? No, she didn't. Now shut up, and show her some respect."

"I accidentally impersonated an officer."

The room went deadly quiet as even the two guards stared at Brennan in disbelief.

She shrugged. "You have the right to know. This is my court-ordered community service. A friend's child broke his arm, and I borrowed my partner's vehicle to take him and his mother to the ER. I used the vehicle's sirens and lights, as well as drove a little too fast. Last night, a judge decided that my behavior warranted community service."

"For driving a hurt kid to the hospital? Man, that's cold."

She nodded.

Another hand went up, and Brennan gave the man permission to speak.

"You that famous murder mystery writer?"

"I do write, yes. And my books are crime novels. Did you have another question?"

"Um, you gonna be OK teaching us? Cause you look ready to explode."

"Asshole," muttered another inmate. "You never say that to a woman."

"I'm three weeks away from delivery. I will be fine, and I can assure you that I will not explode. Spontaneous combustion is a myth." Brennan picked up one of the practice booklets and flipped through it. "Turn to page 17. Start working the problems and then we can examine where any of you might need some review of the concepts."

* * *

_So how to do you think Booth's going to feel about Brennan being in a room full of male convicts?_

_Also, I realize the language is tame considering it's prison; however, I gave the story a T rating, and I'm not going to dirty it up with foul language._

_For those who aren't American readers, the GED is an equivalent to a high school diploma. It tests five subject areas: language arts (two parts: writing/grammar and reading), social studies, science, and math. I believe Canada uses the GED as well._

_Thanks for reading and for the reviews! And by the way, if you write, please let me know. I'm always looking for more reads, and I've got a lot of time to read right now. Seriously. I'd love to read your work._


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

Having arrived fifteen minutes early, Booth had paced the entrance area nervously for a while, eying the metal detectors, cameras, and the hallway.

"Agent Booth, they never let them out early. Might as well sit."

Booth glared at the officer for even making the suggestion. "It's two minutes until four."

"I know. Just saying — she won't be out early."

Before Booth could shoot back another response, his phone buzzed with a text from Hacker, reading, "Approved your security detail for tomorrow. We'll talk later. Can't have you out for a whole week."

Booth resisted the urge not to throw his phone into the wall, and shot back with, "This is non-negotiable. She's my wife, and she's the agency's greatest asset."

The phone promptly buzzed again. "We'll discuss this later when I'm not preparing to enter a four-hour budget meeting."

Booth let out a frustrated sigh and again held in the urge to hurl his phone down the hallway. He turned to pace in the waiting area until he heard the sound of footsteps and a familiar voice.

"If you could make sure there are extra dry-erase markers for tomorrow, I would greatly appreciate it. The ones today left much to be desired."

"I'll see what I can do. See you tomorrow, Dr. Brennan."

"Bones." Booth's voice displayed his relief as he quickly strode to give her a hug. "You alright?" He stepped back, looking her over from head to toe.

"I'm fine, just like I promised I would be." She rolled her eyes at his overprotective nature. "But tired."

"They treat you OK?"

"Yes. I felt very safe."

"Baby OK?"

"She's fine. We're both hungry."

"Right! Let's get home." He held open the door and followed her outside. "Did they feed you?"

"They attempted to." She gave him a wry smile. "It was Mexican."

"Bad Mexican?"

"After everything Angela made me eat last night, I thought consuming more spicy foods would be very imprudent of me. I had awful heartburn this morning."

"So I take it you don't want anything hot for dinner …"

She made a face. "I was thinking as bland as possible. Maybe just a huge salad."

"And ice cream."

"Yes. Maybe if you're nice, I'll share."

* * *

At dinner, Brennan and Booth listened to a chatty Christine explain her school day. When she had finished her stories, she turned to Brennan, practicing what her parents were trying to teach her: take turns talking and ask other people questions about their day.

"Did you look at bones?"

"Actually, no, not today."

Briefly, Booth panicked, wondering how Brennan was about to describe her day to their not-quite four year-old.

"But you had work." Christine looked confused.

"Yes. I taught students today."

"Like Miss May?"

"Sort of." Brennan paused. "My students are older."

Christine nodded understandingly. "Did you like it?"

"Yes. We worked on math, and I enjoy math."

"I like counting," Christine added helpfully.

"Yes, that's part of math."

"Who's in your class, Mommy?"

"Hmm?"

"Their names?" The inquisitive little girl prompted Brennan.

"Let's see … Marcus, Rashid, Franklin, JT, DeAndre, Trey, Wade, Austin, Ben, Reggie, and Carlos."

"I know Ben."

"Definitely not the same Ben as the one in your class," Booth assured his daughter. "Mommy taught adults today."

"Oh. Did they listen?"

"Mostly. Some of them haven't had a teacher in a very long time, so it was harder for them."

"Are they at school?"

"Sort of. I'm helping them study and prepare for a big test. Hopefully the test will help them get jobs once they leave pri …"

"Once they leave their school," Booth interrupted, shooting Brennan a glare.

Brennan glanced around the table at the empty plates. "Who wants ice cream?"

* * *

"What about this one?" Booth held up a photo for Brennan.

"That's Wade."

"You stay the hell away from him."

"Why?"

"Two assault charges, that's why."

"He seemed fine," Brennan mused distractedly, making notes on her laptop.

"What are you looking up anyway?"

"GED teaching methods and resources."

"You're a genius. You don't need methods and resources."

"There are people who have dedicated their lives to teaching and researching this test. I am not one of those people. I can learn from their expertise."

Booth put down Wade's folder. "You really want them to do well, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"I'd like to see them rehabilitated and back in society — assuming none of them has committed really heinous crimes meriting a life sentence." She paused, furrowing her brow as she continued to read. "Plus, I view this as a challenge."

"Getting a bunch of inmates to pass the GED? Yeah, I'd say that's a challenge."

"I'm always up for a challenge."

"That I know." Booth opened another folder. "Do you remember this one?"

She glanced sideways. "Franklin."

"Yep. What's he in for …" Booth perused the file. "Eh, just for illegal weapons."

"How did you get their files?"

"Caroline assisted me. Had to make sure none of these guys had connections to you or me."

"I still don't see why you're so concerned. Prisoners won't hurt a child; it's …"

"One of their strongest taboos," Booth finished.

"Yes, how'd you know?"

"Because you said that exact line to me when we were inside Jamestown right before Christine popped out."

"And I was right. No one hurt me."

"Clearly you don't remember that Haze Jackson wrestled a club from a guard and was holding it over you, ready to swing."

"He wouldn't have hurt me."

"Hey." Booth touched her arm gently. "I'm not taking any chances, OK? That's why I'm looking over these files tonight."

* * *

Having been searched and proceeding through the metal detector, Booth and Brennan clipped on their prison visitor badges.

"Hey, Dr. Brennan!" One of the guards from yesterday came down the hall, waving a small package. "Found these for you."

"Great." Brennan took the dry erase markers gratefully. "Sam, this is my husband and partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth. Booth, this is Sam Anderson. He supervised the classroom yesterday."

Sam politely shook hands with Booth. "We heard you had your own security today. Didn't realize he was also your husband."

"He wouldn't hear of anyone else coming." Brennan explained.

"Understandable. Pleasure to meet you, Agent Booth. You teach as well?"

"Only FBI agents."

The guard nodded, walking the two down the hallway. "I think they liked yesterday, Dr. Brennan. They got here early today."

"Perhaps they're bored. Their brains probably receive very little stimuli here."

"I think they're realizing they stand a chance of passing. A couple of them have tried before, but they never get much help."

"She wants all of them to pass."

The guard looked at Booth, then back at Brennan. "Well. That's mighty ambitious."

"I think it can be done."

The guard shrugged. "Knock yourself out trying. It'd thrill the warden. Our test scores haven't been good in years."

* * *

Brennan spent the morning giving her students a diagnostic test to examine their strengths and weaknesses. She used her lunch break to check their answers, and conned Booth into helping her grade them.

"You've gotta eat."

"I'm fine. I had fruit."

"What about the granola I brought you?"

"I'll eat it if I get hungry." She eyed him as he chewed on a red pen. "You must be hungry."

"Nah. I had fruit and some cookies." He wrinkled his nose, mentally adding up the number of correct problems. "This guy didn't do so hot, Bones."

She glanced over at the test. "Yes, that's Reggie. He's older, which means he hasn't tried these skills in a long time. I suspect he never got past freshman year in high school."

"That's a shame. Your boy Rashid knocked it out of the park, though." Booth passed her another test with only two problems marked as incorrect. "No shocker there."

"Why do you say that?"

"You really didn't look at their files last night, did you?"

She shook her head. "I wanted to be objective with them."

"Rashid got kicked out of GWU. He was studying civil engineering."

"No wonder he did well." Brennan looked at Rashid's test. "He was careless with these two problems. He knows the concepts — if he had checked over his work, he would have caught these errors."

"Why is he taking the GED if he was enrolled at GWU? He had to have graduated high school to get in there."

She shrugged. "My guess is that he's bored. Studying and preparing for a test is something he probably enjoys."

"Makes sense." Booth's phone buzzed, and he picked it up to read an email. "Dammit."

Brennan gave him an obligatory, "What?"

"I'm going to kill Hacker."

"I don't think you should threaten to do that, especially given that we're sitting in a prison."

"Bastard says he'll give me two more days here, then Sweets takes my place."

"Sweets?" Brennan groaned. "Oh no. You've got to get that fixed."

"Don't worry. No one except me will be here with you. I'll make sure of it."

"Sweets would analyze all of them. It would be terribly distracting, and it'll be worse than you looking up all their records."

"Which I did for _your_ safety."

"And to make sure you weren't connected to any of them." Brennan jumped as a loud buzzer went off.

"Gah, what is that!?"

"Lunch is over. They'll be headed back in a few minutes. Have you finished grading?" She peered over Booth's shoulder. "What's taking you so long? I only gave you four tests!"

* * *

_If you're a Netflix user: They've finally added season 7 of Bones for instant streaming! (I'm not sure when this happened because I haven't used my account in a while, but I logged in two nights ago and saw the notification.) Woohoo — something to do over the hiatus._

_Next up: Brennan interacting with the inmates or Booth confronting Hacker. (Or hey, if the muse cooperates, maybe both.) Thanks for reading._


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"Look right here." Brennan tapped her finger next to some handwritten numbers. "Start from the top and work through it."

"I already worked this one."

"But you didn't obtain the correct answer."

"So I got it wrong. Why can't I do another one?"

"You need to know why you got it incorrect; that way, you won't get it wrong next time."

"But …"

Brennan put down her pen and leaned toward the table so that she was nearly eye level with the inmate. "Marcus. This is a standard, fairly basic concept. There _will _be problems like it on the test. Don't you want to get it right on the GED?"

The man nodded.

"Then show me that you can work through it, find the error, and get the right answer. After that, you may move on to the other problems."

With a sigh, Marcus picked up his pencil and pointed to the top of the problem. "OK … this part is right."

Brennan nodded. "Next line."

"So is this one."

"Good, keep going."

Marcus furrowed his brow as he examined the next line of numbers. "And this … yeah, this is right, too."

"Yes. That's the most complex part of the problem, and you didn't miss it."

"But I missed an easy part?" He looked up at Brennan.

She shrugged her shoulders. "You tell me. Keep going."

He looked back at his sheet of numbers, still for a few moments as his lips moved, silently adding, subtracting, and multiplying numbers.

"Write them out if that's helpful," she suggested.

Marcus shook his head stubbornly, still working in silence.

"Dude." The man next to Marcus had been looking over at the problem, and had a slow grin spreading across his face.

"What?"

"Two plus seven don't equal eleven." His gleeful grin continued. "I missed it too, but at least I know the answer's nine!"

Eyes flashing, Marcus turned quickly toward the other inmate.

"Hey!" Booth was watching from the front of the classroom. "Leave him alone."

"He called me stupid," Marcus defended.

"He did not call you stupid," Brennan corrected. "While my intention was for you to figure it out on your own, Franklin simply pointed out your error. He's correct — two plus seven does not equal eleven."

"Stupid," muttered Franklin under his breath.

Before Brennan could blink, Marcus had one hand on the back of Franklin's neck and the other wielding the pointed end of his pencil dangerously close to Franklin's right eye.

"Marcus, drop it!" Having overheard the exchange, JT, the inmate seated directly in front of Marcus and Franklin, had turned around in his chair and was reaching for the pencil.

"Bones, _move_!"

She hastily stepped aside to let Booth and the guard take charge, barely realizing that one of the inmates had grabbed her hand and was directing her up against the wall of the classroom.

"Dr. B, back to the wall. Stay here. Let them do it. Don't move." The inmate stood in front of Brennan defensively, leaving several feet of space in between her body and his. Another inmate joined him, keeping an appropriate but still protective distance from Brennan.

The pencil went flying through the room, and another inmate scrambled from his seat to retrieve it. At the same time, a buzzer sounded, and the door to the classroom flew open, revealing two more guards.

"Hey!" One of them yelled at the inmate who had jumped after the pencil. "You use that thing as a weapon and I'll …"

"Just putting on Dr. B's desk!" The inmate deliberately placed the pencil on the desk at the front and headed back to his seat. "I ain't getting another year here for a damn pencil!"

Brennan glanced over at Marcus, who had been hauled out of his chair by Sam and Booth, who marched him over toward the back of room. When one of the other guards came over, Booth gave up his hold on Marcus and promptly hurried over to Brennan.

"Are you OK?"

"I'm fine. He wasn't going to hurt me."

"Don't matter," DeAndre insisted, moving so that Brennan could step away from the wall. "You don't pull that shit around a lady."

"He's right." Trey, the other inmate who had jumped in front of Brennan, nodded his agreement. "You OK, Dr. B?"

"I'm fine. Thank you both." She glanced toward the back as the two guards exited with Marcus. "I suppose he's finished?"

"Yeah." Trey nodded gravely. "You can't come back to tutoring if you get violent."

* * *

"Did you see DeAndre's arm?"

Brennan looked up from her stack of tests. "Yes, but I assume you mean something specifically on his arm."

"His tattoo."

"He had several. Most of them do."

"Bones, he has a five-pointed crown."

"And?"

Booth sighed. "You're an anthropologist. You know there's significance with tattoos."

"I assume the significance is not that DeAndre desires to be a king or comes from a royal family."

Annoyed by Brennan's flippant attitude and sarcasm, Booth reached across the island to touch her arm. "Bones. It's a gang tattoo."

"Really."

"Yes, really. He's part of the Bloods."

"Oh." She nodded.

"Bones, did you hear me? He's in a gang."

"I suppose that many of them are. What do you suggest I do about it?"

"He stood by you today."

She looked over at him. "He and Trey stepped in front of me to shield me from the rest of the group. Do you really have a problem with that? Because I don't. I think it was appropriate, even though there was no threat to me."

"It just makes me very angry that you have to work around dangerous people."

"This is certainly not my first experience with gang members and you know it." She sighed. "Plus we always work around dangerous people."

"Not eleven of them in a room all day with you being almost nine months pregnant."

"Well, if I hadn't turned on the siren, or if Judge Andrews had been merciful, I wouldn't be doing this. But I did, and he wasn't, so I'm stuck tutoring."

"Just pisses me off." He looked over her shoulder as she continued her grading. "How'd they do today?"

"Better."

"Cause they have a genius tutoring them." He leaned to kiss her lips and she swatted at him.

"Uh uh. Don't interrupt me. I still have a few things to finish."

"You've got to be the only volunteer who takes work home with her."

"I'm determined to get them to pass." She thumbed through a couple pages and passed them to him. "Here."

"What's this?"

"We're doing geometry tomorrow. You're good at it, so I thought you could help."

He groaned. "You've got to be kidding. Now you're giving me homework?"

"Do it and maybe the teacher will reward you." She shot him a saucy grin.

* * *

As Brennan painstakingly worked her way through math concepts with her tutoring group, the days continued on, until it was Thursday and rapidly approaching the weekend. Hacker had ordered Booth to leave at ten Thursday morning to report at the FBI shooting range. Sweets had somewhat reluctantly taken his place, also under orders from Hacker to report back with Brennan on Friday morning.

"Dr. Sweets, are you any good at science?"

Mid-chew, Sweets looked up from the stack of papers he was grading. "Mmm …" He pointed to his mouth and finished chewing. "What kind?"

"Basic high school concepts. I need to start them in on science today. After they get back from lunch, we'll administer a diagnostic test to examine their skills."

"Dr. Brennan, shouldn't we be eating over the lunch break? Not grading tests?"

She pointed to an empty container. "I did eat. This is how I spend my lunch break. It helps me capitalize on the time that I'm here."

He sighed and looked over at the stack of tests. "Did you write these?"

"I pulled most of it from the Internet and added a few things." She looked back at him. "So how are your science skills?"

* * *

_Thanks for your patience in waiting for this chapter. My laptop charger decided not to work for a day, so it took me a little longer than usual to get this up. (I also had a little bit of writer's block! It was my goal to get this posted on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day … but instead I ended up writing and posting a one-shot!)_

_Wonder where Hacker sent Booth? And who thinks Sweets will be good at science?_


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

_Quick note: In the last chapter, I originally said it was Friday and was the first part of science tutoring with Brennan and Sweets. I accidentally lied. I meant to put Thursday. (And I've gone back and changed it.) This chapter is picking up on Friday, so it's day 1.5 of science tutoring (and also day two with Sweets, but don't worry — he gets replaced by Booth at the lunch break!). I changed the first paragraph of the last section in chapter 12 to better explain this, so if you want to go back and skim that, feel free to do so._

* * *

"So that last step gives us the answer: 72 feet. Raise your hand if you got it right." Brennan looked around the room and was only mildly pleased to see two hands. "Well, it's a little bit difficult. Let's try another one."

Trey let out a loud sigh. "This sucks. This science stuff is hard."

A chorus of nods and affirmative noises echoed around the room.

"I haven't had any of that earth and sky crap since middle school," Ben complained.

"At least you remember having it," muttered Reggie, twirling his pencil in one hand.

"How many of you made it to high school?" Brennan paused, noticing how quiet it got in the classroom.

"Dr. Brennan isn't trying to insult you," Sweets interjected from the back. "Knowing your education levels will help her gain a better grasp of …"

Brennan promptly interrupted him. "Yes, pardon me for asking, but it might help me know how to better teach you." She looked around the room again. "High school? Any grades — doesn't mean that you graduated."

Three hands went up.

"Middle school only?"

Five hands went up.

"And did anyone finish high school?"

As expected, Rashid raised his hand. Much to Brennan's surprise, Austin, who hadn't uttered a word the entire time, also raised his hand.

"You think we're stupid."

Brennan immediately shook her head at Franklin's statement. "Of course not. Why would you say that? Have I been demeaning?"

He shook his head silently.

"If I thought this group was stupid, I wouldn't be putting forth any effort with this prep class."

"Dr. Brennan?" Rashid waved his hand. "May I ask you a question?"

She nodded.

"How much school did you attend?"

"How many years, or what degrees did I obtain?"

"Both."

"High school, college, and Ph.D — that was twelve years." She pursed her lips. "I studied anthropology in undergrad."

"What's your Ph.D work?" Rashid continued curiously.

"Anthropology, forensic anthropology, and kinesiology."

"Three doctorates?" His eyes widened. "In four years?"

"Nine semesters," she corrected. "I finished undergrad early and was able to start my research then."

"That's unheard of." Rashid let out a low whistle of admiration. "And with all those degrees, they make you teach us jokers? Why on earth would they waste your talent?"

"This isn't a waste of my talent," she assured him. "I'm actually very grateful for the opportunity to help."

Both Brennan and Sweets were caught off guard as one of the inmates began to laugh out loud. "She's _serious_!"

"Yes, I am serious." Brennan looked Carlos straight in the eyes.

"Why?" he questioned immediately.

"Because she thinks we can do it." Austin, the inmate who had been silent for the entirety of the tutoring sessions, finally spoke. "She thinks we can pass."

This time, JT laughed. "That's crazy shit."

"You can pass." Brennan pointed in the back to Sweets. "I care about the ten of you enough that I've had my husband and Dr. Sweets reviewing material so that they can help assist you. Neither of them has ever taught school before, yet I've insisted that they review the material to help each of you. I take work home with me every night and don't go to bed until I have the next day's lesson planned out. I give you homework every day with the hope that you'll do it and have it stick in your heads."

"Dr. B, we ain't all smart."

"You don't have to be smart. You have to be willing to learn." She paused for a moment, briefly toying with her words. "And I know it's not always easy. I escaped the system. My brother wasn't so lucky. He made it through high school, but that was it."

Sweets tried not to let his jaw drop at Brennan's revelation to the room of convicts. It had taken him years to crack her shell, and here she was spilling her personal life to a room of complete strangers.

"I had to study on my own and work hard to finish well, especially in high school. It would have been much easier to quit, but I didn't. Don't think that I've had it easy and had everything paid for along the way — that hasn't been the case."

"Your daddy leave, too? Or get locked up?" JT asked.

"Both my parents left."

"How old?"

"I was fifteen." She looked up and saw a raised hand. "Yes, Reggie?"

"Can I say something?"

"Go ahead."

"I been here sixteen years. Gonna be here a few more. I'm a lot older than most of you fools, and so you outta listen to me. I been in GED class before. I've done the test. Never passed, and probably never will. But Dr. B's the first one who's come in here and acted like we were worth something. She believes. And you know what?" Reggie hesitated, and then continued. "She's kind of one of us. She ain't had life handed to her on a silver plate. I think that means we can trust her. Now, most of you punk asses can pass this thing if you don't goof off and quit whining like babies. I can't. Not yet. But I sure as hell am gonna pass the math section this time, and that'll be my first. Now I think we outta sit down, stay quiet, and learn. And start believing this is important. She does."

The room was quiet for a minute, until Wade, who outweighed everyone in the room by a solid sixty pounds, finally asked in a quiet voice, "Dr. B, you really think we can do it?"

She nodded. "I do."

"All of us can pass the test?"

"If all of you work hard, I believe all of you can pass the math section," she answered truthfully. "I hope everyone passes the full GED, but I am only helping with your math and science skills."

"You think you could give us some language work?" Again, Wade's voice almost seemed timid. "Not that this math and science stuff isn't good."

"But you want to pass the whole thing," Sweets piped in.

"Yeah." Wade nodded solemnly. "I do."

"I'd be happy to get you some language materials. Perhaps I can get them delivered over the weekend."

"Can I get them too?"

"Me too?"

"I'll print off enough for the class." Brennan gave the group a small smile. "Thank you for your enthusiasm. Think we're ready to get back to these science problems?"

"Yeah." Ben gave her a cocky grin. "Bring it, Dr. B."

* * *

The door buzzer sounded five minutes after the noon lunch break, and Brennan looked up from her grading to see Booth with a sack from the diner.

"Hi." He smiled and gave her a quick kiss. "Sorry I'm late."

"You're not late." She eyed the bag. "Is that for me?"

"Every bit of it." He set it down in front of her and grinned as she sorted through the foods in the bag.

"You wonderful man … how did you know I wanted grilled cheese?" She kept digging through the bag. "And hummus!"

"You asked me for them at three this morning."

"I did not."

"Oh, you definitely did."

"I must have been talking my sleep."

"Nah, you were pretty awake — just very tired and confused. By the time I got out of bed to make the grilled cheese, you were already back asleep."

She shrugged. "I don't remember any of that."

"It happened." He turned to Sweets. "How'd the morning go? Any problems?"

"None at all. No pencil incidents. Dr. Brennan gave them quite the pep talk." Sweets eyed the diner bag enviously.

She wrinkled her nose in disagreement. "No, Reggie gave them quite the pep talk."

"Really? What'd he say?"

"He convinced them that they should work hard and learn the material. It was quite motivational, considering his limited exposure to the academia world."

"He probably realizes education is one of the ways to get out this lifestyle …"

"Uh uh." Booth shook his head, cutting off Sweets. "No shrinky stuff."

"Sweets raises a valid point." Brennan took a bite of the grilled cheese and let out a happy sigh. "This is so incredibly satisfying."

"Glad you're enjoying it." He smiled. "Anything else happen?"

"Oh." Brennan paused between bites. "Sweets, why did Rashid go on that tangent about my education background?"

"It was probably an attempt to establish rapport with the group. You know, convince them that you're trustworthy, smart, and accomplished."

"They didn't already sense that?" Booth gave Sweets a skeptical look.

"Perhaps Rashid was just curious," Brennan mused.

"Or challenging your authority."

"No, he wouldn't be the one to do that. He's got the most education out of all of them."

"Which is exactly why it makes sense for him to challenge you."

She shook her head. "I disagree."

"Of course you do," Sweets sighed.

* * *

_Poor Sweets. No one wants to listen to him ... including me. He may be on his way out of the prison tutoring sessions. (Special shout out to cook2 for sending me a ton of great suggestions on how to handle Sweets. You may not see your help in this chapter, but it'll pop up eventually!)_

_Thanks for reading, reviewing, and sending me great suggestions/notes/encouragements. Keep it up!_


	14. Chapter 14

_Christine makes another appearance because I needed some sweet fluff. (Just found out my Christmas money/savings account will be buying my 6-month old car a new bumper … I bottomed out in a parking lot, and even though only one corner is barely damaged, that warrants an entirely new and expensive bumper. But hey, I'm very thankful that I miraculously have the money to pay for this right now. Very grateful!) Happy New Year!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"I missed you today."

"You did?" Booth looked up from the stirring the spaghetti sauce, somewhat surprised at Brennan's unexpected confession. "But everything went OK, right?"

"Yes, but I still missed you." Her lips quirked up into a smile. "That's OK, right?"

"Of course." He returned the smile, reaching across her to turn off the stovetop. "Trust me, I would have much rather been with you all day."

"You're much better than Sweets at teaching."

"So you missed me for my brain."

She nodded.

"Oh. That's the only reason you missed me?"

"No, of course not." She set the water glasses down on the table, tousling Christine's hair. "You ready for dinner?"

"Yes."

"Can you move your coloring off the table so it doesn't get food on it?"

"Sure." Christine slid down from her chair and grabbed her papers and crayons to carry them to the coffee table.

"Go ahead and sit, Bones. I'll bring the rest of the food over." Booth balanced the bread and salad, and then grabbed the dressing with his free hand.

Brennan had already begun to serve up the plates, working on Christine's plate first. "Want me to cut it up for you?"

The little girl peered over the table, nodded, and gave an eager grin as she climbed into her seat. "Sss-getti! No … wait." Clearly in deep concentration, she frowned for a moment, and then tried the word again. "Spaghetti!"

"Good job." Brennan smiled at Christine's triumphant tone, and simultaneously noticed Booth's slightly disappointed look. "What's wrong?"

"I just like the way she normally says it."

"It's incorrect."

"But it's adorable." He placed pieces of bread on each of their plates.

Brennan laughed as she cut up Christine's portion. "Christine, I think Daddy's sad that you're learning how to correctly pronounce all your words."

"You're growing up too fast."

Christine shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry, Daddy." She gave a sudden yawn as she reached for the bread on her plate.

"Tired, baby girl?"

Her mouth full of bread, Christine simply nodded.

"Did you play hard today at school?" Booth finished serving the trio their salads and began to twirl the spaghetti noodles on his plate.

"We ran _lots_."

"Oh." Both Booth and Brennan exchanged a relieved glance, thankful for a rare chance that Christine might actually fall asleep early."Did you run fast?"

Her mouth was full again, so she nodded at Booth, then waited until she had mostly finished chewing. "I beat all the girls 'cept Molly."

"Molly's much taller than you," Brennan remarked. "Her legs are longer."

Christine gave her mother a puzzled look. "So?"

"If her legs are longer than yours, it makes it easier for her to run." Brennan caught herself. "Well, that's not always true. It just means her legs go longer than yours."

"Like Daddy and you?"

"Yeah, exactly like us. Our legs are longer than yours."

"So you can run faster than me," Christine mused.

"I can. Not sure about Mommy." Booth grinned impishly across the table at Brennan.

"You let me deliver this baby, then give me four months. We'll see who's running faster," she challenged playfully.

"Did you beat the boys?"

Her mouth full again, Christine gave her father a happy smile. "Mmmhmm!"

"Really?"

She wiped her mouth. "Yep. Not all of them. But a lot."

"Atta girl!" He held up his hand for a high five, which she immediately returned. "We gotta get you in soccer soon. You want to try soccer?"

She shrugged nonchalantly as she took another bite of spaghetti.

"What if Daddy coached your team?" Brennan eyed Booth with a smile. "You think you'd like that?"

Christine looked over at Brennan. "Can Lexi play?"

"Well, we could ask her parents."

Viewing this an acceptable solution, Christine nodded. "OK."

"Did you ever coach Parker?" Brennan finished with the butter dish and passed it to Booth.

"Not at her age." Booth nodded toward Christine. "Always wanted to, just couldn't do it with Becca or work or both. I assistant coached with baseball one season, but the bureau gave me a miserable schedule that spring. I think I made it to almost all the games and maybe half of the practices."

"Speaking of Parker, do we have him this weekend?"

"Part of it. Bec wouldn't budge on tomorrow."

She sighed. "I guess we take what we can get. At least we'll get him Saturday and Sunday."

"Since he won't be around tomorrow, I figured I'd take you out for date night."

"Really?"

"Yep. We haven't had one in ages. Might be the last one before the baby."

"That's true. We better do it."

"Christine … how would you like for Grandpa to come over tomorrow?"

The little girl nodded agreeably.

"Then it's settled." He leaned over and planted a kiss on Brennan's cheek. "Date night tomorrow."

* * *

Date night was sacred.

Booth had instituted this ritual several months after Christine was born, and Brennan had gladly agreed to it. One did not interrupt, cancel, or kill date night. In fact, in the history of almost three years of semi-regularly scheduled Friday date nights, only two truly horrific cases and one violent stomach flu incident had hindered date night.

Date night was a chance to dress up and catch up. It gave Booth an opportunity to show off Brennan, which he loved doing — and not-so-secretly, she loved it, too. It gave them just enough time away from their daughter, a chance to have good, uninterrupted conversation, and precious quiet time — a valued commodity that both of them knew would disappear for the foreseeable future once daughter #2 made her appearance.

However, it appeared that the universe was out to wreck date night.

It started at 2:44 a.m.

In normal "I'm-nine-months-pregnant" fashion, Brennan had fallen asleep on her side, curled around and used a large pillow to help support her. In not so normal "I'm-nine-months-pregnant" fashion, she had allowed Booth to snuggle right up behind her, his front pressing against her back, with one arm draped over her hips. She was shocked that it was comfortable, but didn't fight it. Booth relished the fact that his wife finally wasn't miserable, and, after pressing a few kisses to Brennan's shoulder, joined her in sleep.

Until 2:44 a.m.

He felt movement and sleepily realized maybe she was getting up to use the bathroom.

Nope, not enough movement.

He lay still, hoping maybe she was just adjusting her sleep position.

"Mmmm."

That was a distinct groan of discomfort, one that he had grown to know well over the last two months.

"Bones, whatcha need?"

"Mmmm." She fidgeted, trying not to let herself fully wake up.

"You OK?"

"No."

He began to sit up, and she immediately protested. "No, don't. You feel good. Don't get up."

"OK." He ran his hand over her shoulder and down her arm. "What's wrong?"

"She won't stop kicking and moving." Brennan gave a defeated sigh. "And I'm so tired."

"I know you are." He planted a soft kiss on her neck. "Can I do anything?"

"Can you make her stop?"

"I can try."

She turned over towards him. "Why won't she let me sleep?"

"She's a night owl like her mom. Maybe she doesn't need a lot of sleep to function."

"That's silly," Brennan murmured drowsily, burying her head into Booth's chest. "But if it's true, it doesn't bode well for our sleep schedules once she's born."

"Baby girl." Booth rested one hand on Brennan's stomach. "Momma's right. Go to bed. You need to sleep."

A firm kick came in response.

"She's not listening."

"Nope." Brennan sighed. "Maybe I should get up."

"And pace? Yeah, because that always settles her down."

"Sometimes it does."

"And sometimes just laying here works." Booth pressed his lips to Brennan's. "You need to rest, not walk around the house. Stay here. Even if you can't sleep, you're resting."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

"I'm so ready to get her out of me."

Booth couldn't hold back a laugh. "No shit."

"You can tell?"

"I could tell a month ago."

"Does that make me a bad mother?"

He placed a kiss on her forehead. "You know the answer to that. Of course it doesn't."

"Booth?"

"Hmm?"

"What are we going to name her?"

"You really want to get into this now?"

"She's not showing any signs of settling down. Might as well make the most of it."

"Every time we talk baby names this late, we just end up with really strange ones like Demetria and Queen Alexandra ... and Jordan."

He could feel her nose wrinkle against his chest in clear disapproval. "We have never suggested those names to each other."

"But you get my point."

"What's so strange about Jordan?"

"You like that one?"

"You don't?"

"Honestly, it's a miracle Christine has a name …"

* * *

_I have nothing against the names Alexandra and Jordan ... but Demetria Booth just sounds too strange. :) And the "date night is sacred" line comes from the husband of a family I babysat for — he and his wife had a monthly date night no matter what, and I loved that he made it such a priority._

_Two questions for y'all (not related to the story). Hugs or high fives if you can answer! _

_1. Has the name of Hank's (Booth's grandfather) wife ever been mentioned? If so, what is it? (Got into this debate with someone the other day, and we couldn't figure it out.)_

_2. Does Booth ever say that he minored in something in college? One of y'all left me a review asking me if he had English minor, and I cannot for the life of me remember. I almost thought it was history, but that can't be right …_

_More to come. Thanks for reading._


	15. Chapter 15

_A long one! The fluff-monster wouldn't be denied ..._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

Just before 5 that morning, the baby had finally settled down, allowing Brennan — and therefore, Booth — to sleep for almost two hours. Before the alarm could go off, Booth turned it off and extracted himself from the bed, desperately trying to keep his wife asleep.

"_Definitely a full-caff and waffles kind of morning,"_ he thought, rubbing his eyes as he walked down the hallway. He turned on the shower in the guest bathroom, unwilling to risk waking Brennan up by using their bathroom. Giving himself a few minutes to let the steam and hot water help him wake up, he quickly toweled off and redressed in his robe.

Continuing down the hall, he peeked into Christine's room. It was nearly 7, and she usually roused herself by that time. Sure enough, Booth found her sitting in bed, lifting both arms up in a bridge over her head — almost the spitting image of Brennan's morning stretching routine.

"Morning," he greeted softly, pushing her door open. "You awake?"

"Mmhm." Like Booth, Christine was quiet in the morning.

"Sleep good?" He placed a kiss on the top of her head.

She nodded, still slowly stretching her arms.

"Can you get dressed for school?" He looked around the room until he found the outfit Brennan had laid out the night before. "I'm going to make us waffles. You can come help after you finish."

She gave him a sleepy smile. "'K."

"Can I get a good morning kiss?"

Arms still stretched up, she reached around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you." He returned the favor.

"Welcome."

"Hey, be extra quiet getting ready, OK? Mom is still asleep."

She nodded, and slipped out of the bed, immediately pulling the comforter back over the pillow to make her bed. As he left the room, Booth smiled at Christine's routines, most of which were thoroughly instilled habits from Brennan.

He bustled around the kitchen, making sure to add an extra scoop of coffee to the coffeemaker before turning it on to brew. "Sorry, Bones," he muttered. "Gotta have caffeine." After setting the teakettle on the stovetop to boil water, he then dug around the cabinet for the French press and Brennan's decaf coffee. Within minutes, he had the waffle batter ready to go, and a cup of coffee in his hand. As he filled the French press with hot water to start Brennan's coffee, he felt a gentle tap on his hip.

"Daddy? Where's my cup?"

"Right." Booth closed the waffle maker, and went to grab a glass for Christine, who had settled into her chair at the table. "Sorry, sweetheart. Almost forgot."

Every morning, the first one up turned on the coffee maker and poured Christine a glass of milk, which sat on the kitchen table until she came down for breakfast. Brennan was insistent on calcium intake, and by age 21 months, Christine asked and expected her glass of milk every morning. While Booth and Brennan often times stumbled around in a frenzy, reliant upon coffee and breakfast to help them wake up, Christine calmly sat and drank her milk.

"Here you go." Booth set the glass down. "Is Mom still asleep?"

Christine nodded and silently raised the glass to her lips.

"Good. Thank you for being so quiet." Booth slurped his hot coffee. "You think you can eat two waffles? I'll make you a plain one with syrup. If you eat it all, I'll make one with chocolate chips."

Christine's eyes sparkled, and she grinned at him through the milk glass.

"Can you get the blueberries and strawberries out of the fridge please?" Booth walked back over to check the waffle iron. "Mom's going to want fruit on hers."

"K." Christine slid down from her chair, and flung open the fridge, catching the door before it bounced against the cabinets.

Pulling the waffles off the iron, Booth quickly poured the next batch and closed the lid. He placed one waffle onto a smaller plate, touching it to check the temperature. Dousing it with a slightly-more-than-healthy amount of syrup, he dropped a few slices of the strawberries on top and presented it to Christine. "Alrighty. Eat up!"

"Yum!" She sat back down in her chair, reaching to spear the waffle with her fork. "Eat with me?"

"I will as soon as I go wake your mom up. She's got to get ready for work." He eyed her and held back a grin as she lifted the entire waffle toward her mouth precariously on her fork. "Cut that up, please. Carefully."

"OK."

"Be right back." He climbed the stairs and gently opened the bedroom door, still surprised to see Brennan passed out on the bed. "Bones." He touched her forehead gently. "I am so sorry to wake you, but it's after 7."

Her eyes flew open. "What?"

"I turned off the alarm. Don't be mad. You needed the sleep."

She groaned.

"Don't be mad."

"I'm not. Just tired." She slowly sat up and slid her legs out of bed. "Booth! It's almost 7:30!"

"It's fine — Christine is dressed and eating. Hop in the shower." He kissed her forehead with a grin. "And good morning."

She returned the kiss quickly and headed toward the bathroom. "I don't remember the last time I slept this late!"

"Oh, I do. And as I recall, you were perfectly OK with it being my fault from the night before." He grinned mischievously and laughed as she rolled her eyes and tossed her shirt at him before closing the bathroom door.

* * *

As he woofed down waffles, Booth regretfully realized that he should have woken Brennan earlier to give her more time. It was rapidly approaching 8, and she still hadn't made an appearance downstairs.

"You got your backpack and homework folder for school?" he asked Christine.

"Uh huh."

"Let me see, please."

Christine hopped off her chair and went to grab the tiny purple backpack. She unzipped it and showed Booth the folder. "See?"

"Good girl. I see your pencil box, too. And shoes for when you beat everyone running at recess." He held up his hand for a high five, and she promptly smacked it. "You are prepared!"

"Yep!"

"Oh man … we've gotta fix lunches!" Booth got up from the table and went to grab lunch bags for Christine and Brennan.

"Can I have a waffle?"

"Yeah. Don't tell Mom."

She nodded understandingly.

He poured the French press coffee into Brennan's thermos and sealed it. "You want applesauce or an apple?"

"Applesauce."

"Carrots or celery?"

"Carrots."

"Yogurt …" Booth glanced around the fridge. "Eh, all we've got is blueberry, so no choices there."

"OK."

He set out the large containers, and opened the drawer holding the smaller and kid-friendly reusable containers. Usually, he didn't mind Brennan's ecofriendly approach, but on mornings like this where time was short, he found himself wishing for single-serve containers and individually pre-wrapped foods.

"You need some protein," he mused out loud, quickly portioning out Christine's lunch.

"Protein?" she questioned.

"Part of that balanced diet stuff that Mom's always talking to us about," he explained. "Ah hah … we have peanut butter crackers in the pantry. Can you grab two of them?"

In a weak moment of being hungry and craving peanut butter, Brennan had caved last week and bought a package — finally, something that Booth didn't have to put in a container.

"Sure." Christine disappeared into the pantry. "Can I have a Coke?"

"Nope. Good try, though."

"Do you get one?"

"Nope. I get coffee and water."

She reappeared and placed a wrapped package in each lunch sack, examining the large container in front of Booth. "What's that?"

"Granola. Your mom made it last week. This will make it taste even better." Booth reached over the counter for the bag of chocolate chips, and dumped a few into Christine's container. "Shh."

Christine grinned. "I like you making lunch."

The two heard Brennan coming down the stairs, and Booth quickly put the lid on Christine's contraband sweetened granola.

"Booth, she's going to be late."

"Nah, we're fine." He gestured to a plate as he wrapped up Christine's waffle. "Eat — the fruit is right next to it."

"We don't have time."

"Eat them … uh uh!" He caught her pouring coffee from the coffeepot into a thermos. "Yours is in that thermos."

"Thanks … wait." She gave him a quizzical look. "You made two kinds of coffee?"

"Sorry, baby. I had to have caffeine."

She pouted. "Cheater."

"I know. But I made yours fancy in the French press. And you can kiss me to taste the good stuff." He gave her a cocky grin.

"Thanks for that." She stepped toward the door to slip on her shoes, and muttered something under her breath.

"What?" For good reason, Christine didn't catch her mother's words — thankfully.

"They're tight," Brennan bemoaned, pointing to her ballet flats.

"Want me to run up and get you another pair?"

"Booth, these are the biggest ones I own. Nothing fits today!"

"Baby, we gotta go. It's 8:15."

"Can you take her to school?" Leaning down to grab one heel, Brennan wiggled her feet into the stubborn shoes.

"Aren't we riding together? I'm going with you this morning. Sweets replaces me at noon."

"And you're picking her up from school while I'm still teaching."

Booth shook his head. "I'm on range duty until five."

"Then I guess Angela's picking her up. Regardless, I need my car. I'm off at four."

"Right." Booth slid the waffles off the plate and onto a paper towel, then handed them to Brennan. "Eat."

"I need my keys."

"They're not on the island?" Booth glanced around the room. "Christine, have you seen any keys?"

"No."

"Can you look around?"

The three spent five minutes looking around the house and shaking Brennan's various bags, hoping to hear a telltale jingle sign.

"Where's your spare to my car?" Brennan asked, frustrated.

"At the office."

"Why?"

"Doesn't matter — it's there and not here." He grabbed the two lunch bags and Brennan's thermos. "Come on — looks like I'm the only one driving."

"But …"

"Bones, come on or she's going to be late. We'll work out logistics on the way there."

* * *

Booth made it to the preschool in record time, barely getting Christine to her classroom before bolting right back out to speed to the prison. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he glanced at Brennan. "You don't feel well."

"What?"

"You slept late and I had to wake you up. You took a longer shower. You complained about your shoes. You misplaced your keys. Oh, and you watched me put a chocolate chip waffle into Christine's lunch bag and you didn't protest. Obviously, you don't feel well."

"I didn't realize it was chocolate chip," she admitted.

"It's still a waffle, and that's not the point I'm trying to make."

"You're right." She sighed. "I'm exhausted."

"Hang in there. Almost over."

"Tonight for date night, will you take me out for the spiciest food you can find, then salsa dancing until midnight, and then finish with throwing me up against a wall and having your way with me?"

He groaned. "You're_ killing_ me."

"Please?" She took a bite of her waffle.

"No way are we going dancing — your feet will hurt and you'll be mad. And no way in hell am I throwing you up against a wall."

"You don't have to throw me." She took another bite, and then set the second waffle down to grab her coffee. "You could just have me up against the wall."

"We're waiting on that until after you have the baby."

"Oh no we're not." She shot him a look of immediate disapproval, which was quickly interrupted by a curse. "Dammit!"

"What?" He looked over, and saw her picking up the second waffle, which had fallen close to her seatbelt. "No worries, Bones. I'll wipe down the seat later."

"I didn't drop it. She kicked it off my stomach!"

"You had it balancing on your stomach?"

"Yeah, I was grabbing my coffee." She looked over at him. "I know it wasn't a good idea, but I'm tired. Don't you dare laugh."

"Wouldn't dream of it … but that's a pretty nifty trick."

She rubbed her stomach and bit into the dropped waffle anyway. "I don't think she's sleeping enough."

"Maybe she just moves while she sleeps."

"That might be the case." She finished the waffle and crumbled up the paper towel. "Booth … we're going to be late."

"I know."

"Do I get in trouble for being late?"

"We're about to find out."

* * *

At noon, Sweets promptly showed up to replace Booth, who headed back to the FBI. Brennan graciously shared her lunch, and Sweets shared his bag of Cheetos.

"These are terrible for us," Brennan commented, licking her fingers. "And terribly impractical for eating and grading."

"But they're delicious."

"I agree." Brennan sighed. "They are not having a good day."

"Huh?"

"These grades aren't good."

"Well, I overheard one of the guys at the desk saying they had a lockdown last night. Perhaps none of them slept well or had much time to do homework."

"Yes, Reggie mentioned that to me, but it didn't sound like an excuse." She paused, mentally adding up the number of correct problems on Wade's science homework. "They're going to have to do better if they want to pass."

"They've given you very little time to work with them, Dr. Brennan. Realistically, you'll be lucky if any others besides Rashid and Austin pass the test."

"JT will, and hopefully Wade will. The only thing holding him back is his language skills. He's been studying for months."

Sweets looked at her in surprise. "You've really gotten to know them."

She nodded and reached for another homework assignment. "How else am I supposed to teach them and help them pass?"

"You're treating them like your interns."

She gave him a slightly puzzled look. "Well, I guess that's somewhat accurate. Minus the fact that they have criminal records and don't get to work with me on cases."

Both of them looked up as the door buzzed and one of the guards came back into the room. "Sorry to bother you, Dr. Brennan. I need you to sign your time sheet."

"Of course." She looked over the dates and times, noticing the highlighted "LATE" written in all caps off to the side on the current date, stamped with an arrival time of 9:13 am. "Who receives this?"

"The warden and whoever ordered your community service."

She sighed and signed her name. "Right."

* * *

"Here are the language packets like I promised." Brennan held up a thick stack of papers. "If you can, please work through it over the weekend."

"Along with our science homework?" Carlos asked.

"Yes. I know it's a lot, but it will help you prepare. I won't have time to review all of it with you on Monday, but I will try to answer a few questions."

"We can't get a language day?" Wade pleaded.

"I can ask, but my instructions were for math and science only." She began to walk through the room, passing out the packets. "Didn't you have a language tutor before me?"

A few laughs went around the room.

"Uh, she wasn't too smart," Trey commented. "Rashid should have taught it."

"Oh?" Brennan smiled. "Rashid, perhaps if they'll let you, you and Austin could supervise a session this weekend."

"They ain't letting us do nothing this weekend," DeAndre complained. "Not after the lockdown. We all get punished for one person being stupid."

"Yeah," Trey agreed. "Guess we could work on it and yell out around the block if we got questions."

"I like that idea." Brennan sucked in a deep breath and instinctively placed a hand on her stomach.

"Whoa." DeAndre sprang to his feet. "You OK?"

"Dr. B, you hurt?" Trey gave her a panicked look.

"I'm fine," she managed. "The baby just startled me, that's all." She felt a hand on her back and turned to see Sweets.

"Sit. I'll finish passing these out."

"But I have five minutes …"

"Sit," he ordered. "You can talk to them while sitting. And put your feet up."

"Go," Reggie urged. "Prison is no place to have a baby."

"You sound like my husband."

"Well, he's right."

Brennan made her way back to the front of the classroom and saw ten pairs of concerned eyes examining her every move as she sat at the desk. "Relax, I'm fine. The baby was active all last night, and she just settled down about an hour ago. It was just a good, strong kick —perfectly normal, just caught me off guard."

"No contraction?" Reggie asked suspiciously.

"No," she promised truthfully.

"So it's a girl?" Franklin asked.

"Yes."

"Named her yet?"

"Currently struggling through that decision," she admitted.

"Naming the first one is the hardest," Wade said, casually flipping through the pages of the new packet.

"Oh, she's my second. Booth and I have another daughter."

"What's her name?"

"Christine."

"That's a good name. How old?"

"She'll be four in a few months."

"You should tell them about going into labor with her, Dr. Brennan." Sweets offered boldly. "I think they'd find it amusing."

"You do something crazy like deliver her by yourself?" JT wondered out loud. "My kid sister tried to do that …"

"No, Booth delivered her in a shed and stable area of a bed and breakfast."

Carlos raised an eyebrow at Sweets. "Why is that amusing?"

Brennan gave the room a wry smile. "We couldn't get to a hospital in time. We had been working a case, and ended up having to pull off the road at the first place we could find. I went into labor at a prison, so we left and got on the road."

"No shit?"

"Yeah." She grinned and uncharacteristically shot the coarse phrase back at Carlos. "No shit."

"So the last time you were this late pregnant, you were here?" Ben questioned.

"No. I went into labor at Jamestown."

Several low whistles and a loud exclamation of "Damn!" went out in the room.

"What the hell were you doing there?"

"I was perfectly safe …"

"You crazy! That place is for hardcore lock up!"

"Dude, my brother is there!"

"Yeah, for two murders and hurting a cop! No one here did all that shit!"

"Yo, Dr. B," Wade shook his head with a slow grin and gave an approving thumbs up. "That's badass."

"Glad you think so." The buzzer sounded, signaling it was time to leave, but before everyone left, Brennan hastily called out, "Hey! I want to see each of you be badass with those packets and homework. No excuses for Monday!"

* * *

_There is something funny to me about Brennan cursing, especially trying to fit into prison culture. _

_Warning: We're not done with the date night delays. Wonder who might be making an appearance … cast your votes now. :)_

_Thanks so much for the fantastic replies and answers to my questions from last chapter. Based on the expert responses and majority vote, we decided Hank's wife's name has never been said; nor has Booth's major/minor in college been revealed. (Anyone think that maybe we'll get lucky with the upcoming dance episode and found out what he studied in school? If you've seen the preview, you know that he taught dance to put himself through college.)_


	16. Chapter 16

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

Booth came through the back door of the house, going through the quick routine of slipping off his shoes, locking his gun away in the safe, and checking the mail on the island.

"Hey there."

He turned, almost startled. "Max. Didn't expect you to be here."

"I came over a little early in case Tempe needed a break or a few minutes to get ready." He glanced at Booth curiously. "You've been in the field."

"Yeah, I got stuck doing rookie training."

"Fine way for the FBI to treat a special agent."

"Hacker isn't happy about me being the part-time security detail for Bones. I think he just comes up with the worst jobs he can find as payback."

"Never have cared for that man."

Booth shrugged. "Where's Bones?"

"Upstairs with Christine." His lips curved into a smile. "They both conked out about an hour ago."

"They're asleep?" Booth asked in disbelief.

"Christine was watching TV and fighting sleep on the couch when I got here. Tempe was doing paperwork and looked tired, so I told her to nap before you got home. She took Christine upstairs with her."

"Maybe we should stay home tonight," Booth mused.

"Are you kidding? She'd kill you."

"She's exhausted. She got maybe five hours last night."

"She's gotten by on far less."

"Not while being nine months pregnant."

"You'd be crazy to cancel tonight. She's all dressed up and wants to go." Max jerked his head toward the staircase. "Go take a look at her. And shower. You look like you rolled through the hay."

Booth climbed the stairs and quietly slipped into the bedroom, where the bathroom light cast a faint glow into the room. For a moment, he smiled and stared at the scene before him. Brennan had one arm draped over her abdomen and the other resting under Christine, who was curled up and had her head nestled right under her mother's chin. Their shoes lay near the foot of the bed, haphazardly kicked off onto the floor. The comforter covered Christine's feet and only part of Brennan's much longer legs. The two had climbed into bed and apparently fallen asleep almost immediately, without taking a minute to adjust the comforter or use separate pillows.

Not wanting to wake them yet, Booth turned on the fan that Brennan kept as a noisemaker. He gingerly repositioned the comforter to cover them — curiously noting that he wasn't familiar with whatever Brennan was wearing — then jumped in the shower.

* * *

"I feel a little guilty about letting Christine take such a long nap right before dinner," Brennan admitted, dipping the restaurant's French bread in the olive oil and pepper mixture. "But she was so tired."

"You two were … adorable, for lack of a better word." Booth couldn't hold back a smile. "She's not big on naps anymore. It just reminded me of when she was just born and you'd fall asleep with her like that."

She nodded, chewing her bread thoughtfully. "Guess I'll be doing that again very soon."

"I'm glad the little one let you nap today. So kind of her."

"She's actually been very still since I finished tutoring," Brennan remarked. "I'd still like you to take me dancing and see if that wakes her up and tires her out a bit. I really do want to sleep tonight."

"We're not dancing. You know you'll be sore and your feet will be swollen tomorrow if we do that."

She gave a defeated sigh. "You're right."

"We could … one moment." Booth reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "That's odd. It's Caroline."

"She called me earlier and didn't leave a message."

"Oh well." Booth sent the call to voicemail and put the phone away. "She'll text if it's important. And no date night interruptions anyway."

"Right."

"Back to tonight's plans. Can we go for a walk instead?"

"That's an agreeable compromise. Oh look." She rubbed her stomach absentmindedly. "Our crazy gymnast is awake and back in action."

"Our crazy gymnast? So that's what we're calling her?"

Brennan looked up from her plate to notice Booth's fixated gaze. "Caught you."

"Hmm?"

"You're staring at my chest again." She grinned, pleased to teasingly call him out for looking.

"Not going to deny it. I was. And I'll probably keep doing it all night." He shot a grin right back at her. "You knew _exactly_ what you were doing wearing that tonight."

She gave him a casual shrug. "It's certainly kept you distracted."

"You're the one who wore it." He paused. "OK, I'm not getting us kicked out of dinner for an inappropriate conversation in public, so time to change the subject. Back to our gymnast … what's the Greek word for 'gymnast'? Is it something pretty?"

"It's derived from _gymnos_, so no, not particularly pretty. Why?"

"We still need a real name for her."

"_Gymnos_ literally means 'naked,' so I veto that one."

"Yeah, absolutely. What about 'dance'?"

"Um … there's several words for it, but I only remember _choros_ and _agalliao_. Perhaps we should try another word or language. What about Latin?"

"_Salire_ means 'to jump.' That's kind of close to the whole dance and gymnastics theme." Almost immediately, Booth felt like kicking himself for volunteering that information.

Her eyes lit up, and a pleased smile crossed her face. "Ooh."

"Oh no."

"I like it."

"Seriously?"

"It's pretty! _Salire_," she repeated, letting the syllables roll off her tongue as she rolled the 'r' just slightly.

"Well, when you say it, of course it sounds amazing."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop trying to kiss up."

"Suck up, Bones. It's suck up."

"That doesn't make any sense. It should be kiss up."

* * *

By the end of dinner, Booth and Brennan had made no headway on naming the baby, except for a list of about thirty names that they both found horribly disagreeable. Booth drove them a little further into the city, parked, and they began wandering aimlessly around the area.

"Still hungry?" He noticed as her eyes focused on something a little ways in the distance.

"No."

"Liar," he teased playfully. "I know what you're looking at up ahead."

"I'm not hungry," she defended.

"But you want dessert."

She caved easily. "Yes."

He wrapped one arm around her waist, gently running his fingers up and down her side. "Have I mentioned yet how I love this dress on you?"

"Just once or twice tonight." She grinned. "Why do you like it?"

"It's soft." His fingers rubbed the fabric again.

"And?"

"It fits you like a glove."

"And?"

"It complements your … _assets_ … and kept me busy at dinner."

"You don't say," she remarked dryly. "And?"

He hesitated, wondering if he was missing something. She moved his hand from her waist to her back, letting his hand gently rest there for a second. "Ah hah."

"Yes?"

"No damn side zippers." His index finger stroked the zipper, running up and down her spine.

"Right you are."

"This is my new favorite thing on you," he declared. "And probably my new favorite thing to take off you."

She laughed as he led her into a bakery, and he watched as her roving eyes carefully surveyed the full display cases. "Know what you want?"

"One of everything?"

"They look pretty good, don't they?"

She settled on some chocolate and fruity-looking French pastry that he couldn't pronounce, and he went with a slice of lemon pie and two decaf coffees. They went to sit in a booth in the corner of the venue and waited quietly until the waitress delivered their orders.

"Bones, you gotta try this."

She shook her head. "Mine is better."

"Want me to try yours?"

Again, she shook her head. "Not sharing. Don't steal it while I run to the bathroom."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Booth sat and sipped his coffee, looking outside the restaurant through the window since Brennan and the distracting dress no longer blocked his view. His eyes narrowed, recognizing a patron who was entering the restaurant. _"Maybe he's just placing a take-out order,"_ he thought hopefully, doing his best not to look up as the man stepped in line. _"Bones, just stay in the bathroom for a couple more minutes, and he won't even see you."_ He pulled out his phone and typed a quick "stay in there for 3 more minutes" text, only to hear Brennan's phone chirp from her purse across the table. _"Of course she doesn't have it with her."_

He could hear the man ordering, and then he heard the creak of a nearby door.

"Ms. Brennan!"

"Damn," Booth muttered under his breath. "Sorry, Bones."

* * *

_I'm guessing you've figured it out who has interrupted date night ... uh oh._

_This is a little bit of a shorter chapter — sorry about that. Hopefully I can finish my work today and get the next one up soon. As always, thanks for reading._


	17. Chapter 17

_Side note: My job required a little public speaking engagement yesterday. While traveling, I ended up driving on a Booth Blvd, which I never knew existed until yesterday. Random coincidence._

_This one was just fun to write. Hope you enjoy. (Oh, and shout out to cook2 for being the first one to correctly the date night intruder!)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

Booth sat helplessly in his seat, watching as Brennan froze right in front of the counter and her cheeks paled — something she never did. His phone buzzed again — Caroline — and he ignored it.

"Ms. Brennan?" The man repeated, just slightly louder this time. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

Making a poor attempt to cover her distain, she forced a smile across her face and acknowledged his greeting. "Judge Andrews."

Gut instinct finally kicking in, Booth forgot their table and was at Brennan's side in seconds, sliding a protective arm around her waist.

"Agent Booth." The judge surveyed both of them with a wry smile. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Evening." Booth gave him a curt nod. "And yes, you did."

"My apologizes," the judge remarked dryly, and then glanced over his shoulder to flag down a girl working behind the counter. "The usual to-go, Maggie." He turned back to face Booth, but addressed Brennan. "I hear you may not be back next week?"

Her brow furrowed. "I don't know what you mean."

"Sounded like there was a little incident today at the jail." Judge Andrews withdrew several bills from his wallet and plopped them on the countertop, where the cashier scurried to put them in the register and retrieve his change.

At the judge's words, Brennan felt Booth's arm tighten around her, knowing he was silently asking her what was going on and wondering if she had hidden something from him. She repeated her statement. "Again, I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play coy with me, Ms. Brennan." The judge reached to accept his change and pocketed it. "Obviously your little episode today was just for show. You certainly look fine tonight." He gestured at her attire.

"Please explain what you mean," Brennan insisted, still completely unaware of what the judge meant.

"Don't play dumb with me." The judge reached toward the display case to accept the to-go bag from one of the girls, but Booth swiftly intercepted it, snatching it from the poor waitress's hand.

"Outside."

Judge Andrews stared at Booth, mouth open slightly in disbelief.

"You heard me. Outside. Now." Booth pointed rigidly at the door, and kept his hand on Brennan's back as he ushered them outside the bakery.

"Son, I ought to …"

"Listen to me," Booth hissed, stepping slightly to the side to make sure the door had closed behind them. "I don't know what you're insinuating, but clearly nothing happened today during tutoring. I was there during the morning, and my associate was there monitoring this afternoon. If anything had happened, I would be aware of it."

"Unless Ms. Brennan is hiding something from you."

"No one accuses my wife of doing that. Do you understand? No one." Booth drew Brennan closer to him. "And it's _Doctor _Brennan, not this 'Miss Brennan' bullshit. You've had her in your courtroom on that witness stand countless times. You know _exactly_ who she is."

"That I do," the judge gave Booth a cold smile, pausing before he continued. "That's exactly why I'm not surprised that she didn't tell you what happened today. Though I did expect that boyish psychologist friend of yours to tell you — now that does surprise me."

"Your honor? I'm …"

"_How dare you_." Booth's words to the judge interrupted Brennan. She stilled, recognizing she had only heard that tone out of Booth twice, and both times had ended poorly. She knew she had about five seconds before he did something extremely rash in the name of defending her. She grabbed his hand, and turned to look up at him, urgently begging, "Booth, don't."

His eyes, black with fury, didn't move from the judge's face, but his fingers curled around hers, silently relenting.

"Your honor," Brennan began again, silently hoping she was choosing her words well, "I'm sorry if you were misinformed about today. Booth is right — nothing happened. It was a normal session, minus the fact that I gave them extra materials for practice over the weekend."

"You're right," Judge Andrews agreed. "It was nothing. You faked it."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You faked _labor_, Ms. Brennan. Or whatever the hell you decided to fake. I don't know why you waited so late in the day to fake it, but you did. Perhaps you intended your late arrival this morning to be part of the guise. I guess you assumed no one would check up on you, and that's why you thought it was perfectly acceptable to go out tonight since clearly nothing is wrong. You're not fooling anyone."

She could feel Booth's questioning eyes on her, and she looked at him immediately, reassuring him with a shake of her head. "No." She bit her lip and inhaled deeply, trying to steady her voice, which was shaking with fury. "Your honor, that is not what happened."

"It's probably why you haven't submitted the required progress report tonight. I don't respond well to those who break their sentences."

Her eyes narrowed. "What progress report?"

He shrugged. "Your lawyer has the details. I assume you kept her in the dark on your little scheme."

Brennan felt Booth squeeze her hand knowingly. _So that's why Caroline kept calling us._

"I don't know anything about a progress report. I will certainly call Caroline this evening for those details." She paused. "Would you like some evidence that I didn't lie today?"

Judge Andrews gave her a questioning look, raising one eyebrow. "I don't know how you can manage evidence when you faked it."

"I was late today because I overslept," she confessed. "The baby has been very restless and only allowed me a few hours of sleep last night. I took advantage of her being still this morning and stayed in bed longer than I should have. My tardiness was entirely my fault. I offered to stay thirteen extra minutes to make up for it, but your guards said it wasn't necessary. Perhaps they told you that just before five, I appeared to be startled for approximately six seconds?"

"Go on."

"That wasn't because an inmate did something inappropriate or because I was, to use your words, 'faking labor or whatever the hell you decided to fake.' I assure you, this was very real." With that, she dropped Booth's hand and reached for one the judge's hands, holding it to her stomach, giving him a defiant glare. "Does that feel real to you, your honor?"

The judge's eyes widened in shock. Brennan pushed his hand tighter, moving it just slightly to a different position, where the baby was repeatedly kicking into his palm.

"There. Feel that? Strong, isn't she? Now, can you understand how that might have caught me off guard? Especially since she had been still for several hours?" She released the grip on his hand and brushed him away, her heart racing with adrenaline. "I'm sorry that you were so dreadfully misinformed about today, but don't ever accuse me of lying to a judge. Like Booth said, you've seen me on the witness stand, and you know I'm truthful to a fault. I believe in the system. You know — " she hesitated, her voice trembling just slightly as she repeated, "You know — you were there when I testified at my own father's hearing."

"Let me remind you that I was not the judge in that case …"

"Believe me, I know." She cut him off, reaching once again for Booth's hand as she laced their fingers together, squeezing tightly. "Don't think that I don't remember every bit of that case. You sat in on several parts of the trial. If you'd like, I can even remind you where you sat and what you heard."

"That won't be necessary." The judge's tone had changed completely, and Booth swore he almost looked contrite. "I erroneously accused you, Miss — _Doctor_ — Brennan."

She nodded in agreement.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to get home to Mrs. Andrews." He held out his hand expectantly for the bag that Booth still clasped in one hand. "Can't go home without it. It's Friday night tradition for ten years running — I bring her a cupcake, no matter how late I am getting home from work."

Very reluctantly, Booth placed the bag in the judge's waiting hand.

"Have a good remainder of your evening. And Dr. Brennan, I do hope you get some rest." Judge Andrews strode off quickly.

"There are not adequate words in the English language to describe how I feel about that rat bastard."

"Perhaps I could teach you some in other languages."

"How you could possibly think this is funny?" Booth began, but was silenced by Brennan placing one finger on his lips and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Take me home. Please."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Come inside with me just for a minute."

"I'm not hungry anymore."

"Not for that." He escorted her back inside and stepped to the counter, where the several girls behind the counter hurried back to their posts, trying to pretend like they hadn't been watching from the window. "Excuse me." He nodded at one of the girls. "Maggie, right?"

She nodded timidly.

"Maggie, I'm sorry I startled you and took that bag from you. Please forgive me — that was not my intent." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a couple of one-dollar bills. "And I believe Judge Andrews stiffed you on the order."

"Oh, no sir, he didn't."

"Everyone knows you tip on a to-go order. Especially here." Booth smiled and dumped the bills into the tip jar.

"He never tips."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me." Booth looked at the girl again. "I'm very sorry."

"It's OK." She smiled, shyly admitting with a slow grin. "Thanks. He's kind of a jerk."

"Oh, you have no idea. Have a good night."

"Wait!" Having watched the exchange, the cashier called out, hurrying over from the register. "You're forgetting something." She opened the case, motioning for Maggie to help her retrieve and box up the largest slice of pie she could find and two of the crazy French pastries. "And your coffee."

"This is more than enough. We can make the coffee at home," Booth assured her. "Thank you."

"No sir, thank _you_."

The two headed back outside to walk to the car, Booth's arm still wrapped around Brennan as she leaned her head on him.

"You alright?" he murmured, finally breaking the silence.

"Yes. Just tired." She squeezed his hand. "One of us should call Caroline back."

"We'll do it when we get to the car." She paused. "Are you alright?"

"Yes and no."

"I share your sentiment."

"Remind me — what's the punishment for hitting a judge?" Booth mused out loud.

"Uh uh. That one's already on my record. Let's not have it on yours."

* * *

_Everyone has told me that they hate the judge … guess I'm a glutton for punishment and made you hate him even more! Oh well. _

_I rewatched "The Verdict in the Story" for this. Y'all — why is Brennan wearing a key around her neck in the initial lab scene? Is it just a random piece of jewelry from the costume designer? I've never noticed that before. (By the way, Marcus Haddoes was the judge in Max Brennan's case. To be clear, I'm not trying to rewrite the episode and say that that my fictional Judge Andrews was the judge.) And I had forgotten how adorable that scene on the bench where Brennan brings Booth coffee is (and Sweets comes and asks to study them). Precious. That episode is __money__. If you haven't watched it in a while, go do so. It should provide so many writing prompts, warm feelings, and just goodness all around. Seriously, go watch it. You can thank me later._

_As always, thank you for reading! (And hey, in the US, Bones is back a week from today! And TWO WHOLE HOURS!)_


	18. Chapter 18

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

During the ride home, Booth returned Caroline's call. Before either Booth or Brennan could get a word in, they had to listen on speakerphone as Caroline hollered, ranted, and raved about the incompetence of Judge Andrews and his staff, swearing up and down that she would personally guarantee that he vacated his seat as a judge. She started to gripe about how neither Booth nor Brennan had answered their phones, and it was a good six minutes before Brennan finally interrupted Caroline's tirade.

"Caroline? Booth and I ran into Judge Andrews tonight."

"That dirty …"

"Caroline," Booth interjected. "Bones needs to ask you about something. Hold off on your feelings for a minute."

"Go ahead."

"He mentioned something about a progress report. Do you know what that is?"

"Have you been listening to anything I just said?" Caroline sighed, exasperated.

"Yes, you're obviously very angry," Brennan observed. "So are we."

"I'm angry because his staff is useless and lazy."

"Caroline!" Booth groaned, letting his head thud back against the car's headrest. "Please, just answer the question."

"Yes, I know about the progress report. That's why I've been calling all night."

"Could you give me some details?" Brennan asked.

"It's due tonight. There's a whole page with information on it. Apparently, you were supposed to get this assignment on Tuesday, but his bimbo of a secretary …"

Brennan curtly interrupted, "Have you sent me the information?"

"Scanning it in right now. Should be in your inbox in two minutes."

"Good. Is there a deadline?"

"11:59 p.m. tonight."

Booth let out a particularly filthy curse under his breath and smacked the steering wheel. "Son of a bitch."

"Booth, I'll get it finished," Brennan calmly assured him.

"That asshole has ruined our night."

"Only if we let him. I've written thousands of reports in my life — I can easily finish this one." She turned back to the phone conversation. "Caroline, are the details helpful?"

"Yeah, crystal clear. Apparently they want to start a tutoring program with some pre-approved funding and you're their guinea pig for figuring out what works." Caroline paused. "Alright, sent it. Now you answer if I call again, you hear me?"

"We make no such promise — it's date night," Booth explained, then grumbled, "Well, it _was _date night."

"Still is." Brennan gave him a sly smile and reached for his arm, grinning as she saw him respond with a wink.

"Are you two making googly eyes at each other and necking in the car?" Caroline asked suspiciously.

At Caroline's accusation, Brennan let out a telltale giggle and Booth rolled his eyes. "Guilty as charged. But yes, Caroline, we'll answer the phone."

* * *

Miraculously, Max had been able to get Christine to bed just thirty minutes after her normal bedtime, despite the late nap she had taken earlier. He had quickly left the house, informing Brennan that he would be out of DC for a few days, but to call if she needed anything.

Brennan immediately settled on the couch to read the progress report requirements, throwing Booth's sweatshirt on over her dress and kicking off her shoes. At Brennan's not-so-subtle suggestion, Booth changed into gym attire and headed to their garage to take out some of his pent-up frustration with the boxing bag and push ups. After 30 minutes, he returned inside to shower, and then cleaned up the kitchen and den area, allowing Brennan to continue her work quietly. He finally settled next to her on the couch with a slice of the pie and began to flip channels on the TV, knowing full well that she could tune out the low noise.

"Feel better?" she murmured, giving him a quick glance before turning back to her laptop.

"Yeah. A little tired, and not so mad." He smiled. "You were right. I needed to blow off some steam."

She nodded knowingly, and returned her eyes to her screen. It was quiet for another few minutes as Booth searched through the channels and Brennan clicked away on her keyboard.

"Bones?"

"Hmm?"

"You were so polite with him."

"Judge Andrews? Yes, I know."

"Weird."

"I was trying to be persuasive. Appeal to his …" She paused, clearly trying to come up with a word. "Oh hell, whatever it was that Sweets advised me to do during that coaching session."

He grinned and took a pie of his pie. "You used psychology."

"It works on the commoners."

Booth laughed, and then switched the subject. "You let him touch you."

"No," she immediately corrected. "I didn't let him. I was in complete control of that interaction."

"Damn right you were."

"Did you see how startled he looked?" She smirked. "It worked far better than I anticipated."

"Yeah. You don't just go touching a pregnant woman's stomach."

Brennan nodded seriously. "Angela says it should be a law."

"Was the baby really kicking when you grabbed his hand?"

"Yes. She tends to do that when my heart rate accelerates."

"She's a fighter," Booth grinned. "Just like her mom."

"And dad," Brennan added. "She's quite strong. There's a noticeable difference in her kicks from last month until now."

"You think she's coming soon?"

"Considering I'm due in two weeks …"

"No." He tried to clarify. "Like soon soon."

"Booth, that's redundant."

"Like this weekend soon."

She paused for a moment. "No, I don't think so. I don't have any reason to think that."

"Good. How's the report coming?"

"I'm close to being finished. It helps that I've kept notes all week long. I already have the answers to most of these questions." She pointed to the assignment on her laptop screen. "You can read it."

Booth scanned the document, only mildly curious to see what was so important. "Wait. He's using your progress report to determine how to run future tutoring programs?"

"He's probably not, but a prison board might be looking at my findings," Brennan corrected. "Caroline's email says he has a meeting Monday morning with several wardens in the area. They probably just want my thoughts on how the program is going. Judge Andrews is simply the means to getting my thoughts. Plus, Caroline told me he really hasn't ever sentenced anyone to tutoring at the prison."

"You were his experiment."

"I guess so." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't particularly like that idea."

"You and me both." He offered her his fork. "Sure you don't want a bite?"

"Yes, but thank you." Against her better judgment, she scooted just a little bit closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I'm so close to finishing this. Don't distract me."

"You're the one who's touching me. I make no such promise." He felt her lips twitch into a smile as she pressed them to his throat. "You temptress. So you can do that, but I can't return the favor?"

"Later," she promised, giving him another quick kiss before she turned back to her computer screen.

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Brennan declared she had finished the report well ahead of the scheduled deadline. She promptly turned to Booth with a triumphant smile on her face and a husky demand from her lips: "Kiss me."

He did so without hesitation and swiftly moved the laptop aside to pull her onto his lap.

"Do you love me?" she teased, tracing his lips with one finger.

Booth gave a slight tilt of his head with a grin before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "What do you think?"

She pretended to be thinking about his question, fully intending to give him an answer before he distracted her with his mouth on her neck. "_Boooooooth_."

"Mmmhmm." He continued his slow diversion, gently moving his hands to the back of Brennan's neck before she slowly pulled away. "Something wrong?"

She almost laughed at the equal mix of confusion and disappointment in his expression, but quickly assured him, "No, nothing's wrong. It's just …" At that point, she couldn't hold back a yawn, and watched Booth's amused look.

"Geez. Don't let me bore you, Bones."

"No, that's not it," she insisted. "The baby is being so still, and I feel like should take advantage of that, especially if she's active later tonight. Would it be alright if I took a short nap?"

"You don't have to ask me for permission," he said with a smile.

"I know. But I promised date night wasn't over."

"And the night is still young," he agreed, nodding to the clock on the wall. "You take your nap."

"I promise it will be worth it." She pulled away from him slightly to take off his sweatshirt, giving him an accidental eyeful of her chest. He let out a low whistle of appreciation, and she swatted his hand, adjusting the neckline of her dress. "Did you forget what I had on under your sweatshirt?"

"I did," he admitted. "Not sure how I did, though. Aren't you going to be chilly?"

She shook her head and reached for a blanket at the end of the couch as she slid off his lap. "I've got this and your body heat."

"Not going upstairs?"

"Your game is still on, which means you'd like to continue watching it here." She pointed at the TV and then tossed the blanket over herself, placing her head in Booth's lap. "I'd like to spend the rest of the night next to you."

"You sure you can rest like that? Are you comfortable?"

"Booth," she groaned. "Stop it."

"OK." He ran one hand down to rest on hip, adjusting the blanket to better cover her, and stroked her hair with the other hand.

"Mmmm," she breathed, clearly content with his motions. "I'll love you forever if you keep doing that to my head."

"Deal," he grinned. "Sleep."

* * *

The weekend passed uneventfully. Brennan found herself tidying up around the house and Booth accused her of going overboard on the laundry, washing all the sets of baby bedding, towels, burp cloths, and a host of other clothing items. She managed to assure him that everything was normal and that she felt fine, taking advantage of any down time to catch up on her sleep. Sunday after mass, Booth and Parker worked to teach Christine how to kick the soccer ball in the backyard, while Brennan observed from the patio, polishing her coursework for the remainder of the tutoring sessions and working through her editor's latest suggestions. After taking Parker back to Rebecca's and putting Christine to bed, the couple attempted to catch up on their massive loads of paperwork.

Monday rolled around, and Brennan found herself adequately rested for an earlier start than her previous week of tutoring. Her service requirement was a strict 75 hours clocked in at the prison, and she was currently sitting at 39 hours. The prison's program mandated a rest period of 24 hours before the GED, which meant Brennan's last day would be Thursday since the test was Saturday.

In order to obtain her final 36 required hours, Brennan had to start the second week sessions at 8 a.m. The one-hour earlier time change immediately made for some unexpected difficulties — which she had not anticipated — starting first thing Monday.

"Where is everyone?" she asked the guard, surveying the half-full classroom at 8:02 a.m.

"Fight in the showers this morning. A couple of them probably got caught up in it."

She turned to the men who were sitting ready at the tables. "Anyone know if the rest of our group was involved?"

"Don't think so," Ben answered.

"If you're around when it happens, you get called in until they get it sorted out," Rashid explained.

"I find this very frustrating," she remarked. "I hate to start with half the class missing."

Rashid shrugged. "Sorry."

"Well." She sighed, glancing around the room. "Did everyone get to the packet?" She received a few sleepy nods. "Any questions? Perhaps we could look at the language section before everyone else arrives?"

Just then, the door buzzed, and the rest of the inmates entered quietly.

"Good morning," she greeted, giving each of them a quick glance-over as they went to their assigned seats. "Everyone have their packets?"

A slow chorus of nods and "yes ma'am's" went around the room.

"Did everyone finish it?" She paused, looking around as the room fell silent. "Answer me, please. Raise your hand if you didn't finish."

Seven hands went up, and Brennan let out a small sigh. "Why?"

"Bad weekend."

"Why, Wade?"

He shook his head. "Trust me, Dr. B. Just bad."

"Real bad fight," Reggie muttered. "Got ugly."

"Did they toss your cells?"

Franklin cocked his head at the term. "You know what that means?"

She nodded.

"Yeah. They sure did."

Brennan understood the quandary immediately. "So it cut into your study time."

Everyone nodded quietly.

"I'm sorry it was a rough weekend and a difficult morning," Brennan said. "I anticipate it might be difficult to focus, but we really need to get to work." She motioned for Sweets to pass out the pencils, and noticed as he hesitated at one of the tables. "Sweets?"

"Dr. Brennan, I think you should look at this."

"It's nothing…"

Brennan made her way to the second table, immediately noticing JT's attempt to shield his left arm from her view. "What is it?"

"Show her," Sweets urged.

JT shook his head. "Nuh uh. It's fine, Dr. B."

"It ain't fine — you dripping blood, man." DeAndre pointed to the floor, where several bright red spots were evident.

"Hold out your arm, JT." Brennan firmly instructed. "I can't have you bleeding in my classroom."

"It's fine," he protested.

"Let her see it!" The guard strode up behind JT.

Reluctantly, JT placed his arm on the table.

"Don't move it — just a minute." Brennan walked back to the front of the room and retrieved a pair of gloves and a bandage from her laptop bag.

"Seriously?" Trey muttered, staring as Brennan snapped the gloves on and returned to JT's table.

"You surprised? She's a doctor," Carlos reminded.

Rashid rolled his eyes. "Not that kind of doctor."

"Be still," Brennan ordered, gently touching near the wound on JT's arm. "You got cut with a razor blade."

"Nah, it wasn't …"

"I identify wounds, cuts, accidents, and other injuries for a living. Don't even think about attempting to lie to me." Her no-nonsense tone cut through the room. "How did you do this? Is it from the fight this morning?"

He nodded.

"He needs stitches," she informed the guard. "Right now."

"Dr. B, it's OK," JT whined, still trying to cover the gash with a handkerchief.

"You would do well to be quiet about this," Sweets advised. "She knows what she's talking about."

"He'll need a tetanus shot as well. No telling what was on the razor blade." She reached for the handkerchief, and JT protested. "I'm putting a bandage on it. There's no way that handkerchief is sanitary." She patted down the bandage carefully. "There. Shouldn't take long. Come back when you're finished."

The guard walked JT to the door and buzzed him out, handing him off to another guard to escort him to the infirmary.

"Are you going to clean that up?" Brennan caught the guard's attention and pointed at the floor. "I believe it's against health code to have blood present."

"You grossed out, Dr. B?"

At the idiotic statement, most of the inmates turned to give Franklin annoyed and disgusted looks.

"Seriously, man, shut up and don't be a moron," Rashid suggested with a glare. "She's probably seen stuff that'd make all of us puke."

* * *

The rest of the day progressed, and Brennan was eventually pleased with the effort and focus that the group put forth throughout the day. Right before the day ended at five, she shared results from their packets on the whiteboard, giving averages and noting areas where they needed to study harder.

"Yo, Dr. B. Any of us get badass status?"

Recalling her instructions from Friday, she laughed at Wade's question. "Yes. Several of you followed my instructions and were badass with the assignment."

"I don't see that on the board."

"I'll write the names there tomorrow," she promised. "Only three of you finished the packets, so I'm giving you another night to get them completed."

"All right." Wade grinned. "Pretty cool, Dr. B. Another chance to be badass."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. "Yes. Prove it to me tomorrow."

* * *

_I had a bad bout of writer's block with this chapter. Hope that's the last of it. Story should be winding down soon._

_Shout out to everyone who reviews, and a special note to all my guest reviewers — y'all should register! I love reviews, and I enjoy responding to them, but I can't respond to guest reviews; plus, sometimes y'all ask great questions or leave a suggestion, and I'd love to answer them or use the suggestion. Just saying. :) But if you don't want to register, no worries — I still love your reviews._

_Anyone got ideas/prompts/etc.? I'm using one from a review in the next chapter — I am always open to suggestions and love hearing what you think. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: Updated — got a review/question from one of you and that made me realize I forgot to post an author's note with this chapter. If you haven't seen "Aliens in a Spaceship" (season 2, episode 9), a small part of this story will likely confuse you. Feel free to message me if you don't get it, but I'd love for you to watch that episode. (I really believe it's key to understanding the Jeffersonian team.)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"Turn it off."

There was no movement from the other side of the bed.

"Booth." Brennan reached for his shoulder and gently shook him. "That's your alarm, not mine. Turn it off."

He answered her with a grunt and moved to reach the blaring alarm. "I hate this."

"Me too."

"Shouldn't have to get up at five for work. Ever."

She nodded sleepily, her eyes beginning to close again.

"Sorry I woke you." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You feel OK?"

"Mmmhmm. I'll feel better if you let me sleep another hour."

"Lucky," he muttered, swinging his legs out of bed. "I hate Hacker."

"You said this wasn't his fault," she murmured, reaching for Booth's pillow. "And these long shifts mean you get your weekend off."

"It's not his fault, and it does mean that," he agreed, standing with a slight groan as he stretched his back. "Still doesn't mean I enjoy a five a.m. wakeup call." He leaned over her and kissed her lips softly. "I hate leaving you in a bed all alone."

Her eyes fluttered open, and she gave him a slight smile. "That's sweet."

"It's true."

"I forgive you for it," she assured him, her voice muffled as she buried her nose into his pillow.

"And I hate leaving you alone at the prison."

"I have Sweets."

"Which is like saying, 'I have a toy gun.'"

"Not true."

"Yeah, but he's not me." He sighed. "Call if …"

"I know. I will." She opened one eye. "Seriously, you're cutting into my precious sleep time. Go shower."

* * *

As her misfit flock of adopted baby ducks began to file into the classroom for the morning session, Brennan noticed a particular scent hanging in the air. She ignored it for a minute, but finally couldn't stand it any longer. "What is that odor?"

Austin looked up at her first. "What do you mean?"

"That smell." She wrinkled her nose, her expression souring.

"We showered," Carlos offered helpfully.

"No, it's a bad smell," she clarified, and looked at Sweets for help. "Don't you smell it?"

"I smell food, if that's what you mean," Sweets said. "Perhaps it's the hormones."

A grin crossed Reggie's face. "I think I know."

"What?"

"We had bacon this morning," he explained. "We only get real bacon a couple times a month."

Brennan cautiously took another whiff and nodded. "Yes, I think that's what it is."

"You don't like the smell of bacon?" Trey asked incredulously.

She shook her head. "I'm a vegetarian. Normally, the smell doesn't bother me, but I find it overwhelming this morning."

"Probably cuz some of us fried it up," JT stated. "Got bacon grease all over us."

"Kitchen duty," Franklin explained. "Half of us got it this morning."

"Yes, that's a likely explanation." Brennan took another deep breath and stepped toward JT. "I hope you weren't on kitchen duty with your injury. How's it feel today?"

He held out his arm, no longer wrapped with a bandage. "Think it looks OK?"

She bent to look at the wound, carefully stitched back together. "Yes, it looks adequate. The stitching looks fine, and it doesn't show signs of infection. I might have kept it covered for another day or two."

JT looked slightly guilty.

"You took off the bandage, didn't you." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"It itched," he defended.

"You need to do what the doctor instructed," she reminded. "You want it to heal."

"Didn't your momma ever tell you not to take off band-aids?" Wade joined in on the scolding.

"Asshole — what if I didn't have no momma around?"

"You had somebody around," Wade insisted with an eye roll. "Your grandmamma, then."

"Let's get started." Brennan clapped her hands together once to get their attention. "Homework out first, please. Place it at the end of your desk and Dr. Sweets will come gather it."

* * *

By the time the lunch break rolled around, Brennan found herself still battling nausea from the bacon smell.

"You really don't smell it?" she asked Sweets, briefly putting her head down on her desk.

"I do, but it's not bothering me," he answered. "It's your hormones."

"I know," she groaned, clearly annoyed. "That still doesn't make it go away."

"Guess the baby is vegetarian too, huh?"

She shrugged and closed her eyes. "Obviously, since I'm a vegetarian, yes, the baby is, too."

"Would you like a nap?"

"Can't. Have to finish grading their packets."

"I can do it for you."

She opened one eye. "You're not fast enough."

"That sounds like a challenge to me."

"No, it's the truth." She pulled her head off the desk. "Perhaps we'll finish fast enough and I can have a few minutes to rest before they return."

"Rough night, huh?" Sweets reached into his bag of chips.

"A little bit," she admitted. "Just had trouble staying asleep. And Booth was up early again."

"Pulling early shifts?"

"He's required to this week, which is why you're here all day and he isn't." She yawned. "But on the bright side, he won't work this weekend, and he'll be off early on Friday."

"Sounds nice. Chips?" He held out the bag.

"No." She shook her head. "Thank you. Apparently the baby doesn't want me to eat."

"You really should try …"

"Sweets, would you like to see me attempt to eat and then vomit all afternoon while trying to teach? I don't think so."

"But Agent Booth would …"

She glared at him.

"I won't say a word to him," Sweets promised, looking down at the papers in front of him.

"Good."

* * *

Brennan was almost certain she had never been so happy or relieved to see the clock finally hit 4:55. She had spent most of the afternoon seated, her feet and back sorely protesting every time she stood to pace through the classroom to look over the shoulders of the inmates, who were busy taking timed practice sections.

"Time's up," she announced, standing up at the desk. "Close the booklets and pass them to the end of the table. Dr. Sweets will collect them, and you'll see your grades tomorrow." She looked around the room. "DeAndre, close it. I called time."

"Sorry, Dr. B." He looked sheepish.

"Don't try that at the real GED," she warned. "They'll take your test from you."

"Yes ma'am."

"I'm passing out one more practice section." She began to distribute the papers. "I asked this morning about having a quiet room tonight for you to take it timed. Assuming nothing absurd happens during dinner and everyone remains well-behaved, you can return here tonight at eight to take it timed."

"You're coming back at eight?" Reggie asked.

"No." She shook her head with a smile. "One of the guards will keep the time. I will be busy grading from my couch at home tonight."

"So you're giving us new science homework _and _a timed practice section?" Carlos groaned as he flipped through the pages. "You're burying us alive!"

Completely caught off guard by the flippant comment, Brennan was still surprised when she took offense to it. "Carlos, I beg your pardon?"

"Uh, it's just a lot."

"No, what did you say before that?"

"You're burying us alive … with homework," he clarified.

Out of nowhere, Brennan suddenly became extremely emotional. "Buried alive?" She stopped in front of Carlos. "Do you know what it's like to be buried alive?"

He shook his head.

"Then why would you say it?"

"I don't know. It's an expression?" he offered, quickly realizing he had said something wrong.

"Let me assure you that I am most certainly not burying any of you alive." She took a deep breath to steady her voice. "Maybe you feel overwhelmed, but this workload is necessary. I'm doing this to try to help you."

"I'm sorry," Carlos looked up at Brennan, still clearly confused as to why she was so upset.

"Just don't say it again," she requested. "Now everyone behave tonight and get your homework and that practice section completed. I'll see you tomorrow." Right after she finished her sentence, the door buzzed and opened, and the inmates lined up to head back to their blocks.

"Man … poor choice of words," Sweets muttered as he hurried to step next to Brennan. "Dr. Brennan, he didn't mean it personally."

"I'm aware of the colloquialism." She sniffled, willing back tears. "I don't know why I got so upset."

"It's OK," Sweets tried to be reassuring. "You're just tired. Hormones."

"If you say the word 'hormones' one more damn time, I swear …"

* * *

_Anyone wonder what Booth has been up to the last two days while Brennan tutors? Send me your best guesses … you might just see them in the next chapter._

_Three shout outs for this chapter:_

_1. __**casket4mytears**__ left me a review saying, "__Brennan has a whole set of little foster baby ducks she's tutoring now... And Mama Duck takes no crap." I couldn't have said it better myself. Thanks for letting me borrow your words._

_2. I hadn't planned on going back to the stitches incident until __**jkarr**__ left a review wondering how poor JT turns out — thanks for asking._

_3. The whole "buried alive" section was completely inspired by a short note in __**bg3929**__'s review. Thank you for your idea._

_Several of you have asked what I'm naming the baby … that will be revealed soon. The problem with naming Booth and Brennan's kids is that they've had so many cases — you don't want to accidentally give the kid a murderer's name (or a victim's name)._

_As always, thanks for your kind reviews, follows, and reads._


	20. Chapter 20

___Two updates in 24 hours? Yes, it's true. :) I'm anticipating a busy week at work, so hopefully these last two chapters will make up for any possible delays in updating later this week._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

It was nearly seven p.m., and Booth had spent the last three hours running drills in a warehouse with a group of rookies. He was thankful for the facility — a roof over his head providing protection from the rain was welcome after two long outdoor sessions full of mud, holes, and water. Unlike his rookies, he had been allowed to shower after the outdoor drills, and had a brief break before joining them again the warehouse later in the afternoon.

Booth heard a thud as another agent hauled himself up the ladder and joined him in the observation office, ready to relieve Booth once the final drill was complete.

"Agent Wrather." Booth acknowledged him with a nod, not letting his eyes leave the screen in front of him.

"How've they done today, Booth?"

He sighed and shook his head. "If they get this one right, it'll be the first time they've passed the course all afternoon."

"Really?"

Booth nodded. "They've come close, but haven't made it all the way."

"Well, it is day one, but I guess that's a little unusual."

"Same two guys keep screwing it up."

"Story of life," Wrather remarked, taking a seat next to Booth to watch the screen. "One or two always messes it up for everyone."

"Yeah, but we've gotta keep them from doing it here. They mess up, they blow up their whole team." Booth's eyes darted to one corner of the screen. "That's one of them — top right."

"He's close to that motion sensor."

"Yep."

"Has he been in that corner of the warehouse before?"

"Can't remember. Either way, he should see the laser beam." Booth raked one hand through his hair. "Come on, Williams … don't jack this up."

Wrather looked at the screen, pointing to another body. "That guy should see it, too."

"Yeah, he should, but he might not be thinking about Williams. Like you said, it's day one of this portion. They're stuck on looking out for themselves, not the team."

"That comes with time."

Booth shrugged. "A couple of them get it right away, but yeah, it takes a little while for most of them."

Watching the top right corner of the screen, Wrather let out a low whistle. "Man, he's real close."

"Too close." Booth leaned back in his chair. "This sensor thing is exactly what got him last time."

"Five dollars says he trips it."

"Oh, I'm willing to bet more than that." Booth wasn't fazed as a shrill alarm sounded, blaring through the building. "And there he goes."

"Damn," Agent Wrather winced with the noise. "Didn't think he'd managed to trip it that fast."

"Where there's a will, there's a way, but that might be a new record," Booth agreed, reaching for the microphone. "Alright, boys, back to the front! Let's figure out what happened!" He flipped the switch to turn off the alarm, and headed down the ladder to the join the team on the floor. "Anyone know who tripped it?"

"I'm willing to make a guess," one of the rookies muttered.

"Not what I asked, Reynolds. Anyone actually see who tripped it or what happened?" Booth repeated, surveying his group. At their silence, he finally sighed. "Williams, it was you. Again. And Perry, Hudson — you two were close enough to have possibly seen it. Should have called out to him, but I guess no one was paying attention. Look out for each other, not just yourselves. Run it again."

A collective groan went up around the group.

"Look, I'm more pissed about it than you guys are," Booth assured them. "We have to do it again and make it at least 15 minutes without tripping the alarm, and I'm starting to wonder if you guys can do it … not to mention I'm already late to dinner with my wife and little girl. One more time, boys … get it right. Then I turn you over to Agent Wrather for dinner and class." He turned to the guilty rookie and grabbed his shoulder. "Williams, you trip it this time, and I swear I'm sending you back for an eye exam. You look for those little red dots, beams, lines, whatever you see that's red — and you stay the hell away from them. Quit blowing your team up. Understand?"

The rookie nodded. "Yes sir."

"Back in thirty seconds, boys." Booth climbed the ladder back up to the observation station and reset the lights, motion detectors, and beams. He and Wrather watched the monitors as their team navigated through the warehouse.

"How'd you get stuck on rookie duty?" Wrather asked.

"Long story. I owed Hacker because I took some time out of the office."

"He penalized you for taking vacation?"

"Nah, security detail leave."

Wrather shot Booth a puzzled look. "Care to elaborate on that?"

"Bones needed security this week," he explained, eyes still trained on the monitors in front of him.

"For a case?"

"You're asking too many questions, Wrather. I'm sure you've heard what happened." Booth was tired of the endless chatter and gossip around the office regarding his wife's current situation.

"Bits and pieces. My apologizes." Wrather paused. "Still, Hacker doesn't do rookie stuff."

"Yeah, from what I gather, the training department had someone quit or fired someone on short notice. Hacker called me pretty desperate a couple days ago and told me if I pulled some long rookie training shifts this week, he'd let me off early Friday and give me the weekend off."

"You've been working weekends? That sucks. Guess the pay is good."

Booth shrugged. "I'm ready for it to be over."

"Wanna bet on Williams again?" Wrather changed the subject, staring intently at the moving bodies on the screen in front of him.

"Nah. Screwing it up three times in a row is unheard of."

"I wouldn't put it past him."

"Nah, don't be so jaded," Booth grinned. "You sound like an old, hardened agent. Have a little faith in the guys."

The words had no sooner left Booth's mouth before the warehouse alarm blared again, catching both Booth and Wrather off guard.

"Damn!" Booth exclaimed, surveying the monitor. "You've got to be kidding! No way in hell they trip it before hitting the five-minute mark. Not after doing this all afternoon. They made it six minutes the first time we ran it."

"When I was in training, Payton set it off twice before hitting the two-minute mark," Wrather remarked, looking over the screen.

"And that's why Payton is in research and not a field agent." Booth clicked to review the footage, barking into the microphone, "Back to the front, boys! Let's figure out who did it this time!" He glanced over the images. "Help me figure out who tripped it. Been doing this for three hours — I'm about to go cross-eyed."

At that moment, the phone in the makeshift office chirped.

"Grab that, will ya?" Booth was still studying the footage, zooming in on one angle to review two of the rookies.

"Wrather for Booth." Wrather paused, listening into the earpiece. "Yeah, just a second." He put his hand over the receiver. "It's Shari."

"Who?"

"The secretary."

"What could she possibly want?"

"Something about your wife ..."

"Oh god." Booth grabbed the phone out of Wrather's hand. "Shari?"

"Hi Agent Booth. Just thought I'd relay a message to you."

"Is Bones alright? Is it the baby?"

"Oh no, nothing like that," came the secretary's reassuring reply. "She's fine — just wondering when you're going to be home. Apparently Christine is asking for you, and Dr. Brennan expected you home a little while ago."

Booth glanced at his watch and realized Christine was probably headed to bed in the next hour. "Tell her I'm so sorry. I didn't realize this was going to take so long. These guys can't seem to get this drill down. Is she on the other line?"

"No, she called a minute ago, and I told her I'd call back."

Booth sighed, mentally trying to figure out what to tell Brennan. "I'm not exactly sure …"

"Booth." Wrather nudged him. "I'll run the last few drills."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, man. My wife's at her folks this week, and I've got these jokers for the next two hours in class anyway."

"I owe you." Booth turned back to the phone. "Shari? I'm going to head home now. I'll be up to grab my stuff, so I'll call Bones back on my way. Thanks."

* * *

Booth managed to arrive home in time to read to Christine and put her to bed. He returned downstairs to eat and then joined a studious Brennan on the couch, halfway absorbed in her grading.

"I still don't understand why they don't allow you to have your cell phone in the observation tower," Brennan remarked.

"I'm watching and teaching a dozen guys how to avoid getting blown up or shot. They think a phone might be distracting."

She shrugged. "Perhaps."

"You think I can multitask like that?" He grinned.

"I just think I should be able to get hold of you unless you're out apprehending a suspect. I'm your wife," she reminded.

"Are you nervous? Did something happen today?"

"No," she answered, just a bit too quickly for his liking.

Booth set his glass down and reached for her hand. "Bones, you sure?"

"I'm sure Sweets already told you. I know you make him text you everything. "

"All he said was that you're not fond of bacon. I already knew that, and I'm guessing that's not what's wrong." He ran his hand up to her chin and tilted it up to look at him. "What happened?"

"I just missed you today."

"The feeling's mutual," he assured her. "But anything specifically?"

She sighed. "I almost cried in front of all of them."

"What?" He hadn't expected her quick confession. "Who hurt you? What happened?"

"Damn hormones got the better of me." She looked up at him. "Don't you dare tell Sweets I admitted that."

"I won't," he promised. "What happened?"

"Carlos made a comment about how I was burying them alive. He meant he wasn't pleased with the heavy workload, and I knew that's what he meant, but …" She shook her head, unpleasantly surprised to find herself getting emotional again.

"Shhh." Booth scooted over on the couch and wrapped both arms around her. "It's OK."

"It's not!" she insisted, bitterly fighting tears. "He didn't mean anything by it, and I still got offended!"

"It's hormones, and it's OK." He placed a kiss on her forehead. "You did this with Christine, too."

"No, I didn't."

He chuckled. "Yes, you did. Your hormones were nuts the week before she was born. You woke up crying three mornings in a row, remember? Scared the hell out of me."

"Oh." She sighed into his shoulder and wiped her eyes. "You're right. But that still doesn't make me feel any better."

"But you know the reason why you're doing it. And that's what keeps you sane, right?" He kissed her forehead again. "You know what's causing it, so the scientist in you should be satisfied." Suddenly Brennan groaned, and Booth jerked away, startled. "What?!"

"You said a _week_," she said with a whine and a matching pout.

"What?"

"You said my hormones were crazy the_ week_ before Christine was born."

"Yeah?"

"What if this episode is a sign that we have another whole week before this one is born?" She looked ready to cry again.

"Oh baby. You're so tired of being pregnant." His voice was full of sympathy, knowing full well she was exhausted and just ready for it to be over.

She nodded, and leaned back into his embrace. "Can't we just have the baby tomorrow?"

"I'd be OK with that." He stroked her hair and rubbed one of her shoulders. "You think you'll have her tomorrow?"

"Honestly? No." She let out a shaky sigh. "But let's hope I'm wrong."

"If you have her tomorrow, we both get to play hooky." Booth gave her a smile and kissed her lips gently. "That'd be fun."

She suddenly frowned. "You don't think Judge Andrews would make me finish my hours, do you? If I went into labor tomorrow?"

"I have no idea." Booth heaved a sigh and reached for his glass again. "That man is a mystery to me."

"Would Hacker be angry with you?"

"Nah. He's not the one who assigned me to the rookie unit."

"How'd they do today?" she wondered.

"God, Bones," he groaned, stretching out slightly on the couch. "You're not going out in the field with any of them. Ever. I mean it."

"I don't want to be out in the field with any of them."

"Good."

"So they're bad?" she assumed.

"Eh, not great yet. They were fine with their sprints and shooting this morning, even with the lousy weather, but the warehouse training was a disaster. I've got two who are just hopeless right now."

"They can't be hopeless if they've made it this far."

He shrugged. "I don't know. These same two kept tripping the laser beams today."

"Laser beams?" Brennan couldn't hold back a snicker. "That makes it sound like you work on a space ship or something."

"Oh hush. You use laser beams at the lab."

"Correction: Hodgins uses laser beams at the lab." Hearing a brief ping signaling an email, she looked over at her laptop.

"I'll get it." He released Brennan and got off the couch to grab her laptop, glancing at the screen. "Ooh, Caroline. Maybe she's got good news."

"Maybe." Brennan fell quiet for a second, reading silently.

"Everything OK?"

Brennan nodded, still reading. "I don't think Caroline is pleased with me."

"Why not?"

She turned the laptop toward Booth. "Apparently she and Judge Andrews think my progress report was too long."

"So?" Booth scanned the email. "Holy crap, Bones. What does she mean by 713 pages?"

"That's what I sent Judge Andrews."

"How?" Booth turned to her in disbelief. "There's no way in hell you wrote that much in a night! We were asleep by midnight!"

"_Au contraire_, we were not asleep by midnight. In bed, but definitely not asleep." She shot him a cheeky grin. "Date night, remember?"

"Trust me, I remember. But seriously, Bones, how'd you do it?"

"I gathered all the materials I've used to teach and attached them along with my daily notes and the actual progress report. That totaled 713 pages."

"Oh." He nodded. "That makes perfect sense."

"Thank you. I just thought I'd be thorough, but apparently the judge didn't appreciate it."

"Looks like he wanted Caroline to read through it, so I can understand why she wasn't appreciative." Booth gave the laptop back to Brennan. "713 pages. Woman, you're something else."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Why?"

"Because that's a whole lot of time that Judge Andrews has to spend reading my brilliant scientist's work." Booth grinned. "713 pages. Damn."

"I did think about that. It will be very time consuming for him." She smiled, and then handed him a stack of papers. "Could I interest you in helping me grade?"

"Absolutely. Where's the answer key?"

"Haven't made one for that stack yet. Just mark the incorrect ones."

"Unlike you, I don't have all this biology stuff memorized." He handed one copy back to her. "You check this one, and I'll use it as the key for the rest of them."

* * *

_Anyone catch Emily Deschanel last night at the Golden Globes? Lovely, even if she was crying over Jodie Foster's somewhat strange speech. (Hey, the part about Jodie's mother was very touching, so you go right ahead and tear up, Emily.)_

_Happy Bones winter premiere eve/day (I'm posting at 3 am my time, so whatever that makes it your time!) to the fellow US viewers! (And to the rest of y'all, I hope you get to view the episodes very soon!)_


	21. Chapter 21

_Thank you for continuing to read and review. I greatly appreciate it. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"Still pregnant?"

"Yes," Brennan groaned into the phone. "Very much so."

Angela sighed. "Sorry, sweetie. Wish I could help. On the bright side, now Hodgins owes me twenty bucks."

"What?"

"He bet you'd have the baby by 11:59 last night."

"And you bet against him?"

"Yeah."

"Ang, do you want to see me suffer?"

"No …"

"Then why would you bet a later date? Is there a betting pool at work?" Brennan asked.

"Nope, this is just a me and Hodgins thing."

"That twenty dollars is paying for my pedicure," Brennan grumbled.

"Deal," Angela laughed. "How about this afternoon?"

"You know I'm not free this afternoon."

"Right," Angela realized. "You're still tutoring. Speaking of which, how's it going? Aren't you there now?"

"Yes, but it's their lunch break. Sweets and I are grading."

"And hopefully eating, considering it's your lunch break?" Angela questioned.

"Yes." Brennan sighed. "I officially have three people checking to make sure I eat. What kind of person do you think I am?"

"One who forgets to eat on a fairly regular basis, especially when she's consumed with working."

"My eating schedule has improved considerably in the last few years," Brennan defended as she circled an error on one of the submitted homework assignments.

"That's true, but all thanks and credit on that goes to Booth." Angela glanced around her office. "It's too weird not having you here at work."

"I find that I miss everyone," Brennan admitted.

"Aw, we miss you, too. You're not planning on coming back to the Jeffersonian after you finish tutoring tomorrow, are you?"

"I plan on being there Friday."

"Bren, why?"

"Why not?"

"Maybe because you're nine months pregnant?" Angela suggested.

"I'd rather take my full maternity leave after I deliver to give me more time with the baby."

"But you need some time to rest beforehand," Angela argued. "You'll be exhausted."

"You sound like Booth and Sweets." Brennan glanced at Sweets, who looked up from his stack of papers with a curious "who, me?" expression on his face.

"You know, they've got a point. But hey, you know best."

"Thank you. I knew you'd understand." She sighed. "Want to grab dinner tonight?"

"Pedicures and dinner? What's gotten into you?" Angela teased. "Booth working late?"

"Yes, he has another long shift today. Hopefully he'll be home by eight." Brennan paused. "Actually, I'll have Christine with me, so let's just do dinner."

"Oh no," Angela quickly insisted. "We're getting pedicures. She can get her nails done."

"Ang, she's not even four years old."

"Doesn't matter. She _loves_ having her nails painted." Angela grinned, knowing full well that the only time her goddaughter and namesake ever had her nails painted was after visits to Aunt Angie's house or office. "This is perfect. Hodgins will likely be late getting home, too."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he and Cam are struggling a little bit on a case. He offered to explain it to me, but I declined."

"Anything I can help with?"

"No," Angela replied firmly, immediately regretting that she had mentioned a case to Brennan. "The last thing you need is more work."

"I miss it."

"I'm sure you do. But unless you can identify some sort of rare sediment or want to watch maggots hatch, I don't think you'll be much help."

"Perhaps Cam …"

"Uh uh," Angela cut her off. "It's a fleshy one. And Cam has already determined cause of death."

"Oh."

"You sound disappointed. Of course. Why would you not be?" Angela muttered, jumping at the sudden groan she heard over the phone. "Bren! You OK?"

"I'm fine. That was Sweets."

"Really?"

"Yes. Sweets, is something wrong?"

The young psychologist was shaking his head, staring dismayed at a page full of red ink. "This is pathetic. Or sad. Maybe just sad."

"Angela, Sweets is sad," Brennan stated. "It appears that someone didn't do well on the assignment he's grading."

"Ah. Passing on your enthusiasm and goals to Sweets, huh? That's kind of adorable."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You want all of your little convicts to pass their test. You've imparted that desire to Sweets," Angela explained.

"Yes, that might be true." Brennan glanced at her watch. "Angela, I've got to go. I still need to finish grading, and they'll be back soon."

"OK. Call me when you're finished and I'll give you the plans for tonight."

* * *

The Wednesday tutoring session had gone well, minus a few minor outbursts about remembering and memorizing so much information, and several not-so-subtle protests when Sweets handed out more homework and practice sections. Brennan had a few minutes remaining and was orally quizzing the group about the cell structure when Trey politely raised his hand to interrupt.

"Dr. B? We talked at lunch, and we want to ask you something."

She nodded. "Go ahead."

"Can we get some real talk?"

She gave Trey a puzzled look. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"Look, Dr. B." Reggie waved, garnering the room's attention. "They — _we_ — want to know what the odds are."

Brennan looked to Sweets, confusion still written across her face. "I don't …"

"Who's gonna pass?" Franklin bluntly questioned.

"You want me to predict how each of you will do on Saturday's test?" Brennan clarified. At the sight of every head in the room nodding, she sighed, "I couldn't possibly do that."

"Sure you can," Reggie argued. "Shoot it straight."

She shook her head. "I can't."

"That ain't true." DeAndre looked directly at Brennan. "You been straight with us since day one."

"What Dr. Brennan means is that she isn't comfortable guessing how each of you will perform on the GED," Sweets piped in from the back. "She's a scientist. She doesn't guess."

Rashid turned to give Sweets a wry smile. "Ah, but she has facts and evidence on each of us — homework, practice tests, grades, notes."

"That's true," Brennan admitted. "But Dr. Sweets is right. I never guess."

"We can handle it," Ben assured her. "Just try."

"Dr. B, this is prison, not grade school. Ain't gonna hurt our feelings." DeAndre looked around the room. "Right?"

The group nodded again, and Brennan hesitated, torn over what to do. "Why do you want to know?"

"Cause we don't think we're going to pass," Wade admitted, sounding almost ashamed.

"But I've talked to you about this before. I feel certain that everyone can pass the math portion," she stated.

"We want to know more than that," Carlos said. "At least I do."

"How about we compromise?" Sweets suggested. "What if Dr. Brennan gives you her honest opinion tomorrow? That would allow her a little time tonight to better formulate her ideas."

Eyes blazing, Brennan looked at Sweets in disbelief. "Dr. Sweets, I'm the one running this classroom, not you. It's my program, and I determine what is done here."

"Trust me on this." He looked almost pleased with himself, and Brennan quickly realized he must have some psychology behind his suggestion. She shrugged. "Fine. I'll have evaluations for each of you tomorrow."

* * *

"I find it hilarious that Sweets had the balls to stand up to you in front of a bunch of prisoners." Angela shook her head with a grin as she and Brennan discussed the day's events from their chairs at the nail salon.

"Mommy!" Christine appeared around the corner with her nail technician, grinning as she held up one hand. "Look!"

"Let me see." Brennan leaned to look at her daughter's extended right hand, seeing her thumb painted. "Ooh, an orchid."

"A flower," Christine corrected.

"An orchid is a type of flower. It looks very pretty on your fingernail," Brennan complemented.

"Are you getting the same kind of flower on every fingernail?" Angela asked. "Because Bae can do different ones on each nail."

Christine's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yep." Angela looked at the woman behind Christine. "Bae, tell her what you can do."

"I'll show her the pictures," the woman offered.

"Perfect. Christine, Bae has a big book full of designs. You can pick out the flowers you want on your fingernails," Angela explained. "Just be sure to get a daffodil. That's your mom's favorite."

"OK. What's your favorite?"

"Right now … probably hydrangeas."

Turning to Bae, Christine requested, "I want that, too, please. Mom, what's Daddy's?"

"Your dad's favorite flower? I'm not sure he has one." Brennan smiled mischievously. "But he likes mistletoe."

"Hey, that's not a flower," Angela objected.

"It's still pretty, and it's a plant."

"True. But Booth doesn't have a favorite flower? Hodgins has a favorite."

"Hodgins has a doctorate in botany. I'd expect him to have a favorite." Brennan mused for a moment. "Actually, I'd expect him not to have a favorite. He probably can't pick one."

"Yeah, it'd be like picking a favorite child. Speaking of child …" Angela leaned out of her chair, trying to peer into the next room. "My child is being very quiet."

"Don't worry." Bae grinned. "He's picking out his paints."

"Oh good." Angela nodded. "Thank you."

"Come on, let's go finish your nails," Bae said, reaching for Christine's left hand.

"K." She waved at Brennan and Angela, who waved back. "See ya."

"Man, she is the perfect combo of you and Booth," Angela said. "Hope the next one is just like her."

"They're more likely to fight if they're too similar," Brennan remarked. "And what is Michael doing with paints?"

"Oh, June is painting something he wanted on his cast," Angela explained. "And she's putting some sort of lacquer over it to keep the artwork sealed."

"You couldn't paint it?"

"I could, but hey, whatever it takes to keep him entertained at the nail salon. And I told him June has cooler paints than I do."

"Right." Brennan gently rubbed her stomach. "I need your opinion."

"Of course."

"Booth and I cannot decide on a name."

"Oh dear." Angela sighed. "How'd you come up with Christine's name?"

"My mother's name and your name — you know that. It was quite simple."

Angela laughed. "No, I mean how did you two agree on it?"

"I don't know — it just made sense."

"OK." Angela nodded. "What about a name from Booth's side of the family?"

Brennan frowned. "We don't have very good options."

"Let's hear them. Can't be worse than my middle name."

"Beulah and Doris were his grandmothers."

Angela winced. "Yikes, those are terrible. Perhaps you could change Doris to Dora?"

"When Christine was young, we once watched several cartoon episodes where the female protagonist named Dora attempted to be bilingual." She wrinkled her nose. "I can't say that I'm particularly fond of it."

"You absolutely can't name a kid after Dora the Explorer … or Dory, for that matter. Poor kid would think you'd named her after a giddy fish with amnesia."

"Oh, right. Definitely can't use any variation of Doris," Brennan agreed.

Angela paused, thinking for a moment. "Who was married to Hank, Doris or Beulah?"

"Doris."

"Too bad. I love Hank."

"We do, too." Brennan sighed. "If we have a boy, I suspect Booth will want to use part of Hank's name."

Angela nearly shot out of her chair. "A boy!? You're thinking about another?"

"No," Brennan quickly corrected. "I mean, if it happened, then yes."

"Hah." Angela grinned. "Look at you softening about kids in your old age."

"I am not old."

"Booth would love a boy. Parker's getting so old." Angela smiled. "Look at us having real girl talk over pedicures. I'm so proud of you, sweetie. All my hard work has finally paid off."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "You're catching me at a very weak moment." Hearing her phone, she reached in the seat's spare cup holder.

"No, let it ring," Angela urged. "You're off work."

"I'm not sure who it is," Brennan said, looking at the number on the screen.

"Then absolutely don't pick up … or fine, completely ignore my advice." Angela sighed as Brennan answered the phone. She stared curiously as Brennan was quiet for a minute.

"Tomorrow? Well, I'm there from eight until five. They take their lunch at noon for an hour." Brennan was silent again for a moment. "I'm sorry, was my report not adequate?" She nodded as she listened to the voice at the other end of the line. "Yes, I understand his rationale. That makes sense."

"Guess that's not Booth," Angela muttered to Brennan, who shook her head.

"Yes, that's fine. Thank you." Brennan hung up and sighed.

"Who was it?"

"You're not going to like it."

"Doesn't matter. Tell me."

"That was Judge Andrews' secretary."

Angela let out a low litany of French words, rapidly strung together, and Brennan smirked. "You do realize I understand exactly what you're saying, right?"

"I prefer not to curse in English when young children are nearby." Angela let her head fall back against the headrest with a groan. "Why on earth did she call you?"

"The judge wants me to present my findings to the prison board. They're considering starting a permanent tutoring program."

"Absolutely not."

"Well, their meeting is tomorrow, so it won't work. I have my final tutoring session."

"Wait. Would he let you do this presentation instead of tutoring? Because that sounds like a good deal."

"No. He was hoping the prison's lunch break might coincide with the meeting."

"You've got to be kidding me. The man wanted to take your lunch break? He is evil! Can't wait 'til Booth hears about this."

"Please don't tell him," Brennan urged. "There's no reason to do that."

"He's going to find out. He always does."

"He's so tired and worked up with all these long shifts. He's slept like a rock the past few nights."

"Even though you haven't?" Angela raised an eyebrow. "Oh, don't look so surprised. I can tell you haven't been sleeping well."

"It's hard to when she won't be still."

"Dancer or a gymnast, huh?"

"Do you like _salire_?"

"What?" Angela gave Brennan a clueless look at the abrupt subject change. "What is it?"

"It indicates movement," answered the technician working on Brennan's feet.

"Yes." She glanced at the girl. "Do you know Latin?"

"Italian, actually."

"Ah." Brennan nodded. "I believe it means 'climb' in Italian?"

The girl nodded. "Or 'rise.'"

"It means 'to jump' in Latin," Brennan explained to Angela.

"You're considering naming your beautiful daughter a Latin word? Bren, really?"

"What's wrong with Latin? Your name is Greek and literally means 'messenger of God!'" Brennan exclaimed.

"And yet you still gave it to your daughter." Angela grinned.

"Because it's a kind gesture and beautiful representation of my best friend."

"Aww, Brennan, that's sweet! Wait." Angela eyed her best friend suspiciously. "You're sucking up to me. You must really like that crazy Latin word."

Brennan nodded.

"And Booth doesn't?"

"How'd you know?"

Angela shrugged. "Just a crazy stab in the dark."

"So you dislike _salire _for a name?"

"No, it's a beautiful word. Sounds great rolling off the tongue — _salire_," Angela exaggerated as she rolled the 'r' with a grin. "I'm just not convinced that's what you want to name a child. Why not use part of your name?"

"Temperance? Absolutely not."

"Good, because I don't want you taking it anyway. It's going to be my currently non-existent daughter's middle name."

Brennan shook her head. "I can't believe you like it."

"It's a kind gesture and beautiful representation of my best friend," Angela quoted impishly with a grin. "You wouldn't use 'Joy,' would you?" She watched as Brennan shook her head again. "Yeah, didn't think so. Let's keep thinking. There have to be other names on Booth's side of the family, right?"

* * *

_I (sort of) resisted my muse's twisted, psycho urge to bring back the judge. I figured there would be cries of outrage if I did it this late in the story._

_Think Brennan will get her crazy Latin name for the baby, or will Angela talk her out of it? (Then again, Angela might talk her into something more crazy … after all, her middle name came to her in a dream.)_

_Bored this week? Consider rewatching "Intern the Incinerator" (season 3, episode 6) — that's where we find out Booth knows all about Brennan, including her favorite flowers. There's also the fun side story about how Booth is no longer dating Cam. :)_


	22. Chapter 22

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

Much to his chagrin, Booth arrived home to find Christine already in bed, worn out from the excursion earlier that evening. Brennan and Angela greeted him from the couch, papers covering their laps with a carton of ice cream sandwiched between them.

"Hey." He strode over and promptly leaned to kiss Brennan. "Sorry I'm so late."

"It's OK." She smiled. "Long day?"

"That's one way to put it." He turned to acknowledge Angela. "Hi Angela."

"Hey there." She glanced at him from head to toe. "What on earth did they make you do today, roll around in the dirt?"

"Speed training and agility drills this afternoon, shooting, and then some practice with night vision gear — so yeah, roll around in the dirt."

Angela wrinkled her nose. "That doesn't sound fun."

"Yeah, it wasn't."

"Hungry?" Brennan asked. "We got takeout, and there's lots left for you."

"Awesome." He headed back into the kitchen, rummaging through the containers. "So what trouble did you two get into today?"

"Pedicures!" Angela happily declared. "Your wife let me treat her."

"And Christine," Brennan added. "She has a different flower on each fingernail."

Booth couldn't help but smile. "Can't wait to hear all about that in the morning."

"You don't have to be up at 5:30?"

"Nope. I think I can sleep until 6:45, which means I can actually see my daughter and drop you off at the prison."

"You mean to tell me that the FBI has been making one of their special agents work from 6 am to almost 9?" Angela looked over her shoulder at Booth, who was busy heating up his dinner. "What the hell? What kind of trouble did you get into?"

"I'm qualified to teach." He popped half a spring roll into his mouth. "Some guy quit last week and left them stranded. Hacker got pinned with finding a replacement."

"So naturally, he asked you." Angela shook her head. "Because you obviously don't have better things to be doing."

"He took the shifts to make up for the time he's spent with me at the prison," Brennan clarified, bringing another spoonful of ice cream to her lips.

"I just don't get the FBI."

Booth chuckled. "You and me both, Ang. But hey, tomorrow's my last day of rookie training. After that, I get to go back to solving murders and being a normal special agent."

"Woohoo!" Angela held up her ice cream spoon and clanked it against Brennan's. "Cheers!"

Walking back over to the living room, Booth was about to join the duo on the couch when Brennan quickly protested, "Booth, you'll get the couch dirty!"

"Right." He set his plate down on the coffee table and unceremoniously pulled off his Kevlar vest. "Better?"

She shook her head, eyeing the rest of him. "Pants, too."

"Yeah, I'll take the floor instead." He sat down on the floor near Brennan's feet and reached for his food on the coffee table. "Angela, did she drag you into helping her grade?"

"Working on progress reports, actually," Angela corrected.

"Progress reports?" He gave Brennan a quizzical look. "This isn't school."

"Yes, but I'm doing them anyway."

"Why?"

Angela shook her head. "Trust me, g-man, you really don't want to hear that whole explanation."

"They asked me to predict their outcomes for the test," Brennan explained. "Obviously, I'm unwilling to guess, but Sweets is convinced that progress reports are a necessary affirmation, not to mention that …"

Booth held up one hand. "Sweets is involved, which means psychology is involved. Say no more."

"Angela has helped me gather and analyze data on each of them to help me better estimate how they might perform."

"How long have you two been at this?" Booth wondered.

"Well, we got back here around seven and ate, then started working. Hodgins was here before eight to get Michael, so two or so hours?" Angela mused. "Sounds about right."

"Are you almost finished?"

Brennan nodded. "We're finished with the data. I've got two more reports to type."

"So, what are your guesses?"

"I prefer the term 'predictions,' Booth."

He grinned. "Who's going to pass the test?"

"Oh, stop teasing her like that!" Angela scolded. "I've just gotten her all calmed down and relaxed, and here you go again riling her up."

"I was not riled up," Brennan protested. "I was merely annoyed with Sweets."

"What'd he do?" Booth asked.

"He sent me a long email detailing all the psycho babble behind why I should give progress reports, then called to discuss it with me," Brennan answered, rolling her eyes. "I already knew I needed to do the reports, and I was merely annoyed with the fact that Sweets sees the need to justify and over-explain everything."

"You should send him the report you had to write for Judge Andrews and ask him what he thinks," Booth suggested, taking another bite. "That'd keep him quiet for a while."

"Yes, but then he'd want to talk about it."

"Eh, who cares. You're not obligated to talk to him about it." He rested one hand on Brennan's knee. "How's the baby?"

"Fine." Brennan frowned as Angela elbowed her in the side. "Ow."

"Something I need to know?" He glanced from Angela to Brennan, then back to Angela.

Brennan shook her head and Angela shrugged.

"Bones, give me enough time and I know I can pull it out of you," he reminded. "And Angela, I can certainly get it out of you — easily."

It was quiet for only a second before Angela blurted out, "Brennan told me she's fairly certain you'll have your daughter by Saturday."

"Ang," Brennan groaned. "That was a secret!"

"And one that you shouldn't keep from your husband!"

"Angela's right," Booth agreed, setting his fork down on the plate. "Everything OK today?"

"Yes." She looked at Angela and sighed irritably.

"Let's just do this the easy way and let me tell him everything," Angela suggested. "We got takeout instead of going out because she had a couple contractions at the salon. That's when she declared that she thinks she'll have the baby by Saturday."

"Bones!" He shot up from the floor, situated on both knees as he looked at her anxiously.

She shot Angela a despairing look. "Again, I specifically stated that was all confidential. Why did you have to tell him all that?"

"Because I'm the father of this child and I deserve to know when you think she might be coming into this world." Booth reached for Brennan's hand. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Booth, I'm not in labor, and I've been having contractions for weeks. It's perfectly normal. You already know this, and it just gets you keyed up when we talk about it."

"You're sure you're OK?" he questioned.

"We're fine," Brennan promised earnestly.

"You're certain?"

"Yes," she assured him. "You know I would tell you if I wasn't."

"I wish I was going in with you tomorrow," he admitted.

"See, Ang? This is why I didn't want you to tell him," Brennan said, digging her spoon into the ice cream carton. "It just makes him worry and lose focus."

"He's an FBI agent — he can focus. But sorry I told on you … sort of." Angela looked over at Booth. "If you'd like, I could go with her tomorrow."

"Oh no." Booth shook his head vehemently. "Those guys wouldn't know what to do if you were in there tomorrow."

"I agree," Brennan stated. "A visitor could prove very distracting, not to mention Sweets would probably have a hard time keeping quiet with you there."

"Well, I'm a little hurt that the two of you don't trust me in a prison," Angela feigned being offended. "I'd be fine. I've been in one before and heck, I'll probably be there again."

"They already have a hard enough time paying attention with one beautiful woman in there. Add another, and one who's not pregnant and particularly — how shall I say this — flirty? That's a recipe for disaster."

"Wait. You suspect the inmates think I'm beautiful?" Brennan questioned Booth.

"Duh, Bren." Angela shook her head. "Honestly, sometimes that genius brain of yours still surprises me with its denseness. As for you," she looked over at Booth, "my feelings are a little hurt that you think I'd flirt with inmates. I'm a happily married woman, you know."

He nodded with a grin. "I know. You'd still cause trouble."

"Who me? Never."

"Thank you for the offer, but you're not going," Booth assured her. "I barely trust Sweets to look after Bones, and I'm definitely not adding you to the mix."

"I don't need to be 'looked after,' Booth." Brennan sighed. "Honestly, I'm fine. And they seem to like me."

"They adore you," Angela corrected. "Even Sweets says so."

"They just need a little affirmation and someone to motivate them — you know, a little positive reinforcement."

"Affirmation and positive reinforcement?" Angela stared at Brennan with a look of mock disbelief. "Look at you turning into a psychologist."

"Pregnancy does weird things to her," Booth agreed, ducking as Brennan playfully smacked him with a stack of papers. "Hey!"

* * *

"Nervous about the straight talk with them?" Sweets asked as Brennan flipped through her stack of papers.

She finished chewing her mouthful of food and gave Sweets an inquisitive look. "Why would I be nervous?"

"Dr. Brennan, you've certainly concluded that not all of them will pass. Right?"

She nodded and took another bite. "Go on."

"It would make me a little nervous to tell someone that I don't expect them to pass … and I assume you're going to tell them."

"Well, I'm not you, so it doesn't make me nervous." She pointed at one stack on her desk. "Feel free to look over my reports. I've summarized my findings on the first page."

Eagerly, Sweets reached for the papers, and scanned Brennan's notes on the first page. "Wait. You expect four of them to pass the entire test?"

"That's correct."

"Who else besides Rashid and Austin?"

"Keep reading," she encouraged.

"I understand JT, but Wade?" Sweets made no attempt to conceal the note of surprise in his voice. "Really?"

"He's one of the hardest workers in this class."

"Hard work doesn't mean you pass a test," Sweets answered. "Else I would have aced every test in my undergrad years."

"Have you noticed Wade's periorbital dark circles?"

The look on his face clearly indicated that Sweets had no idea what Brennan had just said.

"Dark circles under his eyes," she explained. "It's from staying up late, straining his eyes, and studying. He's working so hard that he's forfeiting sleep."

"That doesn't seem wise."

"Perhaps not." She paused.

"So dark circles under his eyes make you think he's going to pass?"

Brennan ignored Sweets's confusion and continued, "Wade's the most unlikely candidate for parole."

"What?"

"Out of everyone in that room, he and Reggie are the two least likely to get parole anytime soon. Both have assault charges on their records."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I think that he's trying to prove his worthiness, whether it's for himself or someone outside of the prison. He wants to pass the GED to prove he can do something good. My rationale for Reggie is similar, except that Reggie is the least educated in the group. While Reggie has the determination, he simply won't pass this time because he doesn't have the necessary skills."

"But Wade has the necessary skills and the drive," Sweets mused.

"Exactly." She smiled. "You look like you understand my point."

"I'm pleasantly surprised and pleased with your use of psychology, Dr. Brennan."

"That's not psychology. It's facts and evidence."

He returned her smile. "Call it whatever you want, but I know psychology when I see it. You're using psychology to help analyze them."

"I am not." Brennan nodded her head toward the stack of papers in his lap. "Feel free to look over the individual reports. You'll see the data and realize I came to my conclusions based on facts."

* * *

"Dr. Sweets is handing out your individual progress reports," Brennan announced to the inmates, who had been back from lunch for about two hours. "Before you become discouraged with the results, I want you to compare my initial diagnostic from two weeks ago to my current diagnostic. Each of you has drastically improved over these two weeks. While your goal might be to pass this test, that may not be logically attainable for everyone just yet."

A few pairs of eyes glanced up at Brennan, and she quickly moved on to affirm them.

"My initial goal was to have all of you pass the GED," she admitted. "I've quickly realized that was foolish, but not because you're not smart or capable. I firmly believe each of you is capable." She paused for effect. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Each one of you can pass this test. It may not be this time, but you get another chance."

"Actually, you get three chances," Reggie said with a slight grin. "I know cause I do it a lot."

"Yes, three times per calendar year." She nodded. "All I ask is that each of you do your absolute best this Saturday. While I want each of you pass the entire test, I'm not asking for that. I just want all of you to put your complete and undivided attention and passion into taking the test."

"So we're not all going to pass?"

Brennan looked at Franklin straight in the eyes. "Yesterday, you asked for me to be honest."

He nodded.

"And you," she pointed to Trey, "said the entire group wanted me to be honest."

Trey nodded and gave a polite, "Yes ma'am."

"Then read your reports." Brennan indicated to Sweets to start passing out the papers. "While I am not a GED grader, I used your homework and practice section data, as well as your class participation and overall attitude to predict how each of you will perform. I also addressed your potential." She paused. "As a scientist, this is extremely contrary to my nature. I predict based on previous results, data, facts, and evidence, not potential. However, in this case, I feel that each of you has immense potential. You wouldn't have stuck this course out for two weeks if you weren't dedicated to seeing change, which indicates potential."

The room was quiet, all eyes still focused on Brennan, even as Sweets handed out the papers.

"I want you to read your reports, and ask if you have questions. And remember, even I've predicted that you won't pass the entire test, look at the section labeled 'potential index.' I've given each of you timelines and suggestions with hopes that you can pass the entire GED within the next three months to two years."

"So we can look now?"

Brennan smiled at JT's eagerness. "Yes. And keep the results to yourself unless you desire to share them with the class."

The room went quiet as all the inmates began to read through their reports, and both Sweets and Brennan surveyed the room, watching for their expressions. Austin was the first to finish, shortly followed by Rashid. Both looked up to catch Brennan's eye, and she gave them a knowing smile.

"We both know they'll pass the whole thing," Sweets whispered. "What'd you put on their potential index?"

"I gave them information about correspondence classes for college credit," she answered quietly. "Rashid had 35 credits, but GWU wiped them once he committed his felony. He and Austin could easily start coursework together."

Carlos was the first to let out a low whistle, and Rashid gently nudged him. "Hey, quit cheating. Read through the whole thing."

"Dude, she thinks I'm gonna pass science_ and_ math!" Carlos exclaimed happily.

"Quit skipping around and read her whole report on you." Rashid pointed back to a section near the top of the report. "I know you don't read that quickly. Come on, read the whole thing."

His eyes returned to the top of the page, but Carlos couldn't wipe the happy grin off his face as he continued reading.

"Dr. B!" JT's gleeful tone rang out, revealing he too had skipped around on the report. "You really think this?"

She nodded with a smile. "I don't lie, JT."

* * *

_Oh Brennan — unable to admit that she's totally using psychology on her boys._

_And while Angela spilled a lot of info, did you notice what she and Brennan didn't share with Booth? Hmm._

_I intended to keep this chapter going a little longer, but alas, the job calls. I'm traveling for work all holiday weekend, so you won't see an update until at least Monday (probably Tuesday or Wednesday). Leave me a note to let me know what you're thinking — your lovely reviews keep me writing. As always, thanks for reading!_


	23. Chapter 23

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"Will you be back if we don't pass?"

Brennan was caught off guard by Ben's question, and her expression showed it. "I …"

"This is her community service, not volunteer work," Franklin reminded in a hushed tone. "She's done today."

"But would you come back to help us?"

Mentally blaming her hormones, Brennan found herself trying not to cry at Ben's second question.

"Dude, you made a pregnant woman upset." Carlos shook his head.

Brennan took a shaky breath and gave the class a weak smile. "Obviously I won't be able to come back for some time; however, I'll try to come back if I'm needed. I've written reports and presented my findings to your warden, who has met with the prison board about starting a tutoring program."

"They got one, and it sucks," Reggie stated candidly.

"I realize that." Brennan nodded. "Part of my service agreement was extensive reports, research, and analysis, as well as developing rudimentary framework for the science and math sections. All my work went to Judge Andrews and your warden, both of whom apparently have considerable say in what kind of programs might happen here."

"Andrews?" Trey raised an eyebrow. "He the one who put you here?"

"Yes."

"He's an asshole." Trey quickly caught himself. "But I'm glad you're here, Dr. B."

She laughed. "Me too."

"You like us idiots, don't you?" Rashid grinned.

"You're certainly not idiots."

"But you get what I'm saying."

She nodded at him. "Yes. I find that after two weeks, I'm very fond of all of you."

"Well, we like you too, Dr. B." JT gave her a thumbs up sign. "And we're requesting you come back if that tutoring program comes through."

"You're pretty cool, Dr. B." Wade nodded in agreement. "Maybe we should all fail to get you to come back."

"That certainly won't guarantee my return," she dropped off as she caught their amused expressions. "Right. You were joking."

"Yep."

The buzzer sounded, indicating that it was 5 p.m., and yet no one hurried to the door. Instead, DeAndre slowly approached the front, and paused in front of Brennan's desk.

"I know we been tough, but thanks for working with us." He paused, looking down at his progress report sheet. "And I'm gonna do my best to pass math."

She nodded encouragingly. "I know you can do it. And if you keep studying, you can pass the whole test."

"Thanks." Cautiously glancing at the guard, he held out one fist over Brennan's desk, and broke into a grin when she promptly fist bumped his tattooed knuckles. The rest of the group followed suit, stopping to offer brief thanks and fist bumps before heading out of the classroom.

"Dr. Brennan, that was remarkable," Sweets began as he helped her gather up the remaining papers and pencils. "I mean …"

"Sweets, I've been very patient with your psychology this week," she interrupted. "I'm sure this has provided more than enough material for you to write a paper or start a new book."

"But you don't want to hear anything right now."

She nodded. "Exactly. I just want to gather my things and have you take me to the Jeffersonian."

"But it's after five."

"Cam has paperwork for me, and I'd like to start on it tonight. I'm very behind on my work."

"But won't Booth …"

She glared at him. "Booth gets home in just over an hour. If you hurry, I'll have plenty of time to get the paperwork and be home before he arrives."

* * *

Eyes still bleary, Booth groaned as he sought out the beeping alarm clock. His fingers fumbled with the button, and he slowly sat up and raked his fingers through his hair.

Brennan stirred, gradually opening one eye and then the other. "Morning."

"Hey." He leaned over and kissed her gently. "It's Friday. You don't have tutoring. Go back to sleep."

"I'll get Christine up." Her eyes fluttered as she struggled to keep them open.

"No, you should sleep."

"I kept you up last night," she realized, looking guilty.

"No, the baby kept me up," he corrected, a crooked smile spreading across his face. "Not your fault."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're the one who needs to rest, not me."

"You need rest — you have work," she protested.

"And I've done it before on no sleep. Plus, I'm getting off early today, remember?" He grinned as her eyes briefly reopened and she smiled at him. "After work, I can home and nap with you this afternoon before we pick up Christine."

"That sounds nice," she admitted. "Christine … I need to get her prepared ..."

"I can get her ready for the field trip." He pressed another kiss to Brennan's lips. "I promise."

"I laid everything out in her room," she murmured sleepily.

"Great. I'm going to shower and then I'll get her up."

Booth took a quick shower and donned his range gear. As he finished shaving, a quiet knock came, and his daughter's smiling face appeared when Booth opened the door.

"Hi." He let her inside the bathroom and quietly closed the door. When he leaned to kiss her, she giggled as he purposely smudged her cheek with shaving cream. "You excited about your field trip?"

She nodded happily, her eyes sparkling. "Uh huh."

"Look at you, you're all ready to go." He grinned at her overwhelming excitement. "You even got your backpack on."

"Yeah." She nodded proudly.

"Do you need your backpack for the field trip?"

"Yes, Daddy. For my lunchbox."

"And your jacket," he realized, glancing at the day's weather on his phone.

Immediately, Christine looked disappointed. "Rain?"

"Nah, just a little chilly this morning. Maybe you can just wear a sweater." He eyed Christine's wavy hair, still disheveled from a full night's rest. "We need to fix your hair."

She nodded her agreement.

"Did you brush it?" he asked, knowing full well that she hadn't done so.

"Tangled," she whined pitifully.

"Don't worry. I'll get it fixed." He rinsed off his razor and placed it back in the drawer, then opened another drawer to grab the miracle purple bottle of detangling spray. "Here, turn around."

Christine dutifully turned so that her back faced Booth. He quickly sprayed her hair and began to gently comb through the knots, apologizing when she protested once or twice.

"There we go." He turned her around and surveyed his work. "Maybe you need a clip or something."

"I'll pick." Christine's hand reached into the drawer, and she dug around until she pulled out a hair band.

"You want a ponytail?"

"No." She shook her head, still looking through the drawer.

"I could put a butterfly clip around the ponytail," Booth suggested.

Again, she shook her head, and then brightened as her small fingers found what she wanted. "Here."

"A bow?"

She nodded happily, handing Booth the satiny green ribbon. "Please."

"OK." He sighed and turned her around again, pulling half of her hair up with the hair band. His thick fingers fumbled with the ribbon, but eventually, he pulled it into a bow around the hair band. "Like that?"

Christine turned her head back and forth, swishing it from side to side to examine it. "Yes."

"Whew. Glad it looks OK."

"Thank you, Daddy."

Booth and Christine went downstairs, leaving Brennan asleep as they ate cereal and drank milk. Booth prepared half of pot of decaf coffee, knowing Brennan would want some soon, and he drank a cup, hoping to fool his body into thinking it was the real deal. As he took Christine back upstairs to brush her teeth, Booth noticed Brennan stirring uncomfortably in their bed.

Keeping one hand on Christine's back as she stood balanced on the stool in front of the sink, Booth poked his head out of the bathroom, "Hey, you alright?"

Brennan turned her head toward him. "Yeah."

"You don't look like it."

"Just tired."

"You look like you're hurting." He looked back at Christine, who had toothpaste rapidly dripping toward her chin, and he swiped it with her finger. "Go ahead and spit. Rinse."

"My back is a little sore," Brennan admitted, adjusting her position in bed.

"I'll call in."

Immediately, Brennan protested. "Booth, I'm not in labor."

"Doesn't matter." He reached for his phone in his pocket.

"No." She shook her head. "You can't do that. This is your last day before the weekend off. If you call in, they'll make you work another day. Besides, you've got to take Christine to school."

"You're not feeling well."

"I'm just fatigued and achy from standing yesterday."

He watched as Christine put her toothbrush back on the countertop, and then hopped off the stool. "Hey, go hug your mom before we leave."

Christine quickly jumped into the bed and placed a kiss on Brennan's cheek, which Brennan returned with a smile. "You excited about today?"

"Yes!"

"Good. Have fun, OK?"

"I will."

"I'll pick you up from school and I want to hear all about it." Brennan glanced at the alarm clock. "Booth, you need to leave."

"I know." He bent to kiss her, cupping her cheek gently as he grazed her lips. "Please call me if …"

"I will," she whispered, trying to assure him with another kiss. "We're fine."

* * *

Sweets and Brennan's stop the night before at the Jeffersonian had been in vain. The paperwork wasn't ready for Brennan, and Cam had appeared very surprised to see her. She had promised to have Angela deliver the work to Brennan the next day, despite Brennan's offer to come in herself and get the paperwork.

As she sat waiting in the carpool pickup line, she found herself fidgeting, her back still feeling sore and overworked from yesterday. She briefly wondered if she should take something or try another hot shower, but was suddenly interrupted from her thoughts when the side car door opened.

"Hi Mom!"

"Hey," she greeted, turning to smile at Christine, who had climbed into the car with the help of one of her teachers. "Here, I'll come buckle you …"

"We got it, Dr. Brennan." Abbie, one of the teacher's aides, leaned her head into the car. "You don't need to get out. I've got her."

"Thank you, Abbie." Brennan gave a grateful smile and watched as Christine was buckled into her booster seat. "Christine, what do you say to Ms. Abbie?"

"Thanks!" Christine gave the aide a smile and a wave.

"You're welcome. I'll see you Monday, OK?" Abbie gave Brennan a quick wave as well. "Good to see you. Hope you have a good weekend."

"Thanks, you too." Brennan glanced in the mirrors as she pulled out of the lane, slowly making her way through the congested school parking lot. "So, tell me all about the field trip!"

"Mommy, it was so fun!" Christine gushed happily.

As she listened to her daughter's observations and tangents about all the things she had seen that morning, a short, sharp pain made Brennan suddenly realize why her back ached.

"Mommy?"

Brennan caught Christine's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Yes, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I wasn't listening for a minute."

"You made a funny noise."

"Hmm?"

"Like this." Christine sucked in a deep breath, pursed her lips, and let out a quiet "oooh."

"I did?"

Christine nodded.

"Oh. I'm sorry I scared you."

"Did you hurt?"

"My back hurts a little," Brennan admitted. "But I'm OK. Can you keep telling me about the field trip?"

Her daughter's chatter helped keep her focused on the road and getting home, but Brennan found herself glancing at the clock in the car, silently debating whether she should call Booth. When they pulled into their driveway, Brennan made a conscious effort not to make a noise at another short pain. She helped Christine out of the car, making sure she had her backpack and sweater, and promptly went to the kitchen to find a piece of paper and pen.

"Do you have homework?" she asked Christine, jotting down the number "11" on the sheet.

"I have to draw something I saw today."

"Want to do it now?"

Christine shrugged. "Sure."

Brennan pulled another piece of paper from the drawer, and laid Christine's backpack on the table. "Are your markers in there?"

"Yes." Christine dug through her bag, pulling out what she needed. The room was silent for a few minutes as Brennan straightened up the kitchen, and washed the dishes from breakfast. She opened her laptop to see an email from Cam, telling her that Angela would be dropping off paperwork at the house within the next 30 minutes.

"Christine, are you hungry? I can fix some lunch."

"No." Christine shook her head. "I ate with my class."

"Want a snack?"

Christine hesitated, and then hopefully suggested, "A cookie?"

Brennan caved easily, giving her daughter a grin as she reached for a container. "How about a brownie instead?"

"Yeah." Christine gave her mother an odd look for a second. "What's wrong with your eyes?"

"Hmm?" Unconsciously, Brennan had clenched her eyes shut in surprise at another contraction, trying to focus on not startling Christine.

"Your eyes." Christine unsuccessfully tried to mimic Brennan's expression. "Like that."

"Just blinking them." Brennan placed a brownie on a paper towel in front of Christine.

"You blink funny," Christine said, reaching for the brownie. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Brennan scrawled another number on the sheet and reached for her phone. "Daddy should be home any minute now."

"Early?"

"Yes. His boss is being nice today."

"Good." Christine chewed thoughtfully. "Daddy works late."

"Yeah, he had to a lot this week," Brennan admitted, hitting the call button on her phone to dial Booth. "I'm going to see if he's close to being home." The phone rang four times, and then pushed Brennan to voicemail. She tried again with the same result, and then sighed as she dialed another number, pausing until she heard a voice at the other line. "Yes, I need to speak to Seeley Booth, please."

"Agent Booth isn't available. May I take a message?"

* * *

_We're winding down, and reviews are dwindling (so an extra special thank you to those who are still reading and reviewing). I think I've got two chapters left in me. Anything you want to see resolved? Shoot me a message or please leave a review._

_And Monday night's episode … wow. I feel like the show is finally back with a bang, and that makes me incredibly happy. (And I guess a little morbid? Oops. That's not my intention.) Can't wait to see what they do with this season. I smell drama, angst, and probably a killer of a season finale cliffhanger. Bring it on, HH and crew!_


	24. Chapter 24

_Two updates in 24 hours because y'all are just great. :)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"What do you mean, 'Agent Booth isn't available?'" Brennan questioned. "He's not answering his cell, and protocol dictates that if he's not answering his cell, he can be reached through the office."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. All I know is that he's not available."

Brennan walked away from the kitchen and out of Christine's earshot. "I'm his wife — Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"Oh." There was a slight hesitation from the voice at the end of the line. "I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan. I don't have any information about Agent Booth."

"Where's Shari?" Brennan suddenly realized that the girl on the phone was not the normal secretary on Booth's floor.

"She's in a meeting."

"May I speak to her?"

"No ma'am."

"Andrew Hacker, then."

"I'm sorry, he's in the same meeting."

"Have you seen Agent Booth today?"

"No ma'am, but I've only been here for an hour. I'm normally in a different division." The girl paused. "I'm sorry I can't be more helpful."

"You and me both." Brennan sighed. "Fine. I'd like to leave the same message for my husband, Andrew, and Shari: whomever you see first, have them call me immediately on my cell. They have the number. Understood?"

"Yes, Dr. Brennan."

"Good." She ended the call, sighing as she looked at her watch. Booth was due home almost an hour ago, and the thought of not being able to reach anyone familiar made Brennan feel uneasy. Pushing those thoughts aside, she began to mentally run through the list of things she needed to do before her labor escalated.

"Christine? I'm going upstairs for a few minutes. Aunt Angela is coming over to bring me a few things. If the doorbell rings, I want you to make sure it's her before opening the door, OK?" On more than one occasion, an overly friendly Christine had flung open the front door before Brennan or Booth could see who was there. Booth blamed it on Brennan's old habit of opening doors without first looking to see who was there — Brennan simply tried to be more diligent about teaching Christine to ask before letting a complete stranger into the house.

"OK, Mom."

"You have everything you need for your drawing?"

"Uh huh."

"Good deal." Brennan turned to climb the stairs and headed straight for Christine's bedroom. She grabbed her daughter's duffel bag from the closet and proceeded to pull several shirts, two pairs of pants, pajamas, and underwear from Christine's dresser. She glanced around the room to find shoes near the clothes hamper.

"Laundry," she muttered, adding it to the list of things to finish. She zipped up Christine's bag and laid it on the floor, then headed to master bedroom to get out of her uncomfortable clothes. She found Booth's sweatpants draped over the chair, and dug around for a tank top in her dresser. Shedding her jeans and top, she stuck them in the larger hamper and dragged it into the hall.

She walked into the nursery and hesitated for a minute, momentarily overwhelmed by the fact that the next time she walked in, it would be with a newborn in her arms.

"_I need Booth here."_ Brennan thought, trying to control her sudden surge of emotion. She walked over to the dresser and opened one of the drawers, examining the rows of tiny onesies washed and ready for use.

"I know I had more burp cloths," she mused out loud, opening another drawer. "Ah hah." She grabbed the new, unwashed stack and glanced around the room to see what else could be added to the hamper. Just then, the doorbell rang, and she peered out the blinds to see Angela's van in the driveway. She heard Christine's little feet jetting toward the door, and couldn't hold back her grin as Christine yelled at the top of her lungs, "It's Aunt A! I checked!"

"OK, you can let her inside!"

"Hey sweetie!" Angela's cheery voice floated through the foyer of the house. "You're home early from school?"

"Field trip!" Christine declared.

"Oh, how fun! Where'd you go?"

"The nature place to see the trees and plants and animals."

"That sounds awesome. Your Uncle Jack would love that."

"He can go sometime."

"Yeah, you'll have to go with him and show him everything." Angela paused. "Where's your mom?"

"Right here." Brennan was descending the stairs, hamper in her hands. "How's work?"

"Good — I'm off the rest of the day." Angela surveyed Brennan's casual attire with a smile. "So glad you took our advice not to come in today."

"Well, I thought about it, but Booth isn't back yet, and I wanted to spend time with Christine. Come on in — Cam said you needed to explain a few things with the paperwork?"

"Yeah, I had a couple questions." Angela followed Brennan and Christine into the kitchen, setting a stack of files down on the island. "Ooh, brownies."

"Help yourself. I'm going to throw this load in the washer, then we can sit and figure out the paperwork."

"Got it." Angela opened the container and glanced at the papers and markers on the table. "Cool, whatcha drawing?"

"It's homework," Christine explained. "We have to draw something we liked today."

"Show me what you're drawing." Angela took a bite of her brownie and leaned over to look at Christine's work. "This one is a tree."

"Yeah, but it wasn't the best tree."

"That's OK," Angela assured her. "It doesn't have to be the best."

"I'm working on a flower." The little girl pointed to another sheet.

"Ah, I see. Good job with the stem. What kind of flower?"

"It's white with some pink on it."

"You could draw it on black paper so the white shows up," Angela suggested.

Christine's eyes lit up. "Cool."

"Uh huh. You need to use crayons instead of markers, but it would work."

"I have some." Christine dug around in her backpack for a small pencil case.

"Awesome." Angela picked up another sheet of paper; the one Brennan had used to write numbers. "Is this yours?"

"No, Mom's."

"Bren, you writing code or something?" Angela teased.

"What?"

"I said, are you writing code or …" Angela trailed off as she walked over to the laundry area, noticing Brennan at a standstill with the laundry pile. "Hey, you OK?"

"Yes." Brennan gave a quick nod, both hands still firmly plastered on top of the washing machine in front of her.

"Don't lie to me." Angela's eyes narrowed, and she stepped into the laundry room, gently closing the door behind her. "Are you in labor?"

Brennan merely nodded.

"Those numbers on the sheet in the kitchen are your contractions."

"Yeah."

"Damn, Bren. Why didn't you call me?"

"You were coming anyway."

"I would have hurried if I had known!"

"Shh," Brennan hushed, nodding her head toward the kitchen where Christine was still busy coloring.

"Sorry." Angela gave her a quick smile. "Hey, humor me. I want a celebratory hug."

"There's nothing to celebrate yet," Brennan rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, there is! After everything that's happened over the last two weeks, you're finally in labor. Woohoo!" Angela's arms went around Brennan. "This is a good thing!"

"You're right."

"You excited?" Angela released Brennan, and began to help her load the washing machine.

"Yes. Oh, I've got Christine's bag ready to go."

"So prepared … as always. I could have done that."

"It was easy. Thank you for taking care of her."

"Anytime. Hey, where's Booth?"

"On his way," Brennan replied.

"Wasn't he supposed to be home already?"

"Yeah. I'm not entirely sure why he's late."

Again, Angela's eyes narrowed. "You've told him, right?"

"I've called."

"Did you speak to him or just call him?"

Brennan's guilty look immediately betrayed her.

"Brennan! Seriously!?"

"I've called, but he's not answering his cell. I've tried the office, and they can't reach him."

"You're in _labor_. Did you tell them that? And what about Hacker?"

"No, and Hacker can't be reached either."

"You're Temperance Brennan. The FBI should be waiting on you hand and foot and kissing your feet. Obviously you didn't try hard enough." Angela pulled out her phone, scrolled through her contacts, and hit the call button.

"Who are you calling?"

"Hacker's direct line." Angela frowned as she got his voicemail, and pulled her phone away to push "1" to speak to the secretary. "I need to speak to Andrew Hacker immediately."

"I'm sorry, Director Hacker is in a meeting."

"Then you'll have to disturb him. This is important."

"May I ask who's calling?"

"Angela Montenegro-Hodgins from the Jeffersonian Institute. May I ask who this is?"

"Melissa Stone."

"Hi, Melissa. Where's Shari?"

"She's in a meeting."

Angela let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, I understand that Dr. Brennan just spoke with you, and you gave her the run around."

"I …"

"Don't interrupt me." Angela's tone immediately became stern. "I need you to locate Seeley Booth, Andrew Hacker, or Shari. I don't care what you have to do. This is an emergency."

"Ms. Hodgins, like I told Dr. Brennan, I have no idea where Agent Booth is. I'm under strict orders to take messages."

"I don't think you're listening to me. This is not a request, and I don't care if you have to break the rules. You're going to be in more trouble if you don't find one of them right away. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but …"

"No, just do it. I'd prefer that you find Agent Booth first, but at this point, I don't really care."

Melissa protested. "Ms. Hodgins, I could lose my job."

"Oh, I can _guarantee_ you'll lose your job if you don't find one of the three people I named within the next two minutes."

"Ang!" Brennan admonished. "Quit threatening her."

Angela shook her head at Brennan and resumed her phone conversation. "Melissa, if you cause Agent Booth to miss the birth of his child, I can assure you that your days at the FBI are limited."

"Yes ma'am. Hold, please."

A triumphant smile on her face, Angela gave Brennan a thumbs up sign. "We're on hold."

"Please don't get that poor girl fired."

"Not my problem." Angela shrugged. "You give my best friend the run around and there will be hell to pay …" She turned her attention back to the phone. "Andrew, hi. Angela here."

"Ms. Hodgins, this better be good."

"Your top special agent and director of the major crimes unit is unreachable."

"Yes, he's finishing up training exercises. What do you need?"

"He needed to be home over an hour ago."

"I apologize. I guess the session went long." Hacker sighed. "Again, what do you need?"

"Andrew, did that sweet, clueless girl not explain this to you? _Brennan's in labor_."

"Shit."

"Yeah, and she doesn't exactly hold the record for taking her sweet time when it comes to delivering babies. Get Booth home. _Now_."

* * *

Booth watched as his rookies lined up in their stalls at the range, posed with guns in hand. He surveyed their positions, making notes on his clipboard about those who had their feet a little too close together or were leaning too far forward. He nodded to another instructor, who flipped a switch, setting off a series of random lights, which indicated who got to fire. Booth watched closely for delays, as well as misfires, pleasantly pleased when the group hit the one-minute mark without any errors.

"_Almost done … then home,"_ Booth thought, briefly distracted. _"Maybe a long nap if I'm lucky; maybe it's not as late as I think it is."_ He had been without his phone or a watch since arriving at work, but it seemed like the session had gone on for too long.

Suddenly, the blue emergency lights flashed and the warning alarm sounded throughout the area. Booth glanced around, unable to find what had trigged the system. Booth looked back at his partner, who was clearly just as confused as he was, holding up his hands to indicate to Booth that he hadn't set off the alarm.

The rookies froze in their spots, still trained on the targets, and Booth made a mental note to praise them for doing exactly what they had been instructed to do. He gave them a sign indicating for them to stay there with their protective headphones, but to lower their weapons. As they did so, he felt a tug on his vest and came face to face with his slightly out-of-breath boss, who ripped off his headphones.

"Come with me."

Booth jogged out of the range, following Hacker's rapid pace. "Sir, is …"

"You're dismissed."

"What?" The look in Booth's eyes was one of pure confusion.

"No, not that kind of dismissed. Get home to Temperance."

It took Booth all of three seconds to realize what Hacker meant. "Oh God." He took off toward the second door.

"Booth! Keys and phone!" Hacker tossed both at him.

Booth checked his phone, seeing missed calls from Brennan and Angela, and he hit the callback button for Brennan, still running through the training facility. When she didn't answer, he hung up and tried Angela.

"Hey."

"Please tell me you're with Bones."

"I am, and she's OK."

"Put her on." Booth dashed through the ground floor of the building, and took off in a full-fledged sprint as he hit the parking lot.

"Booth?"

"Bones, I'm so sorry."

"I'm OK."

"I'm still at the office. I'm so sorry."

"It's OK," she soothed. "We're fine."

"Why did you let me leave this morning?" he gently scolded.

"I wasn't in active labor this morning. I promise. If I had known, I would have told you."

"When did it start?"

"In the carpool line when I went to pick up Christine."

He groaned. "I'm that late?"

"Yes, but it's fine."

"No, it's not. This damn job."

"You're on your way now and that's all that matters."

"Hang on for me, OK?"

She smiled. "You're not missing anything. She's not a Christine — I think we're in for a long afternoon."

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure." Brennan's voice faltered for a second, causing Booth to cringe.

"Baby, I'm sorry. Coming as fast as I can."

Brennan exhaled. "Good. I love you."

"Love you. Put Angela back on, OK?" Booth waited until he heard Angela's voice. "Ang, how's she doing?"

"She's fine." Angela hesitated, watching as Brennan's face changed expressions. "Wait, hang on." She quickly put the phone down, and threw an arm around Brennan's shoulders. "Bren. You just turned really white. Talk to me."

"I'm OK," she mumbled.

"Uh uh. Deep breath in," Angela instructed.

"Angela!" Booth increased his running speed, silently cursing the fact that he had parked over at the main deck instead of by the training facility. Helpless, he tried to listen to the conversation over the phone, which was mostly drowned out by the noise of the washing machine. "Angela, tell me what's going on!"

Angela was clearly asking Brennan a question, one that Booth couldn't quite make out, and Brennan gave a definite affirmative answer. He overheard Brennan's request for a towel, and he shouted again. "Angela! Pick up!"

"That's Booth," Brennan heard a noise from the phone, which Angela had placed on top of the dryer.

"Right." Angela put the phone up to her ear again. "Hey Booth? Forget what Brennan said. Things just escalated a little bit. You're going to need to use the siren."

* * *

_Well, we found where Booth was … now the question is, will he get there in time? (Oh, who am I kidding — I'm not that mean.) And thank goodness for Angela, right?_

_Y'all were pretty great with prompt reviews for the last chapter — thanks a ton! The muse went a little long on this chapter, so I'm not sure that the next one will be the last. Either way, we're almost finished!_


	25. Chapter 25

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"Why did you tell him to use the siren?" Brennan asked, exasperated with her best friend.

"Um, because you're having his child? Because I don't want him missing anything? Because I really don't want to deliver your little girl? Take your pick of answers."

"What if he gets pulled over?"

"Well, unlike you, he's an actual federal agent and is licensed to drive his vehicle equipped with sirens and lights."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "This isn't an emergency."

"I love you dearly, but sometimes you are just plain crazy." Angela shook her head. "You've been having contractions for the last hour, and your water just broke, yet you're acting like it's no big deal."

"Women have babies every day."

"That they do." Angela glanced out of the laundry room. "Hey, we need to get out of here. Your mini-me is going to get suspicious."

"Good point." Brennan reached for another pair of sweatpants on top of the dryer and slipped out of Booth's faded FBI sweats, spraying them with cleaner before throwing them into the washing machine.

"I'll grab a couple towels and get you situated on the couch."

"I can do it," Brennan protested, pulling the drawstring of the comfortably too-big pants. "I'm not an invalid."

"Believe me, I know." Angela sighed as she grabbed a towel from the dryer. "I suppose I won't have any luck trying to convince you to go to a hospital."

"Absolutely not. And quite frankly, I'm a little surprised you tried."

Angela shrugged. "Figured it couldn't hurt. OK, you want the couch or your bed?"

"Couch. I'm going to pace anyway."

"Uh uh." Angela shook her head. "You're lying down on your side and waiting for Booth to get home."

"Why?"

"Because I love you, but I am not delivering your baby girl by myself!"

"It's going to be a while. My contractions are still fairly far apart."

Angela rolled her eyes. "Famous last words."

"Besides, you would totally deliver my daughter by yourself if I needed you to."

"Only if I had to. Seriously, please go lay down on the couch. It'll delay things."

"That's not necessarily true."

"Well, you walking and squatting and doing all kinds of other movement only speeds things up. That much I know. You're on the couch until Booth gets here."

"Will it make you feel better?"

"Yes!" Angela nodded vigorously.

"Fine," Brennan huffed as she and Angela stepped out of the laundry room. "I'll take the couch."

"Thank you for humoring me. Now, what do we need to do before Booth gets home?"

Christine looked up from her drawing. "Daddy's coming home?"

"Yep." Brennan walked over to the table to examine the artwork. "This is very pretty. Good job."

"Thanks." The little girl held up the piece of paper to examine it better. "Think it's done?"

"Yeah, I think so." Brennan reached for her sheet of paper and added another number.

Angela raised an eyebrow. "You didn't even flinch that time."

"Wasn't a bad one." Brennan shrugged and turned back toward Christine. "Want to come sit on the couch with me?"

"Are you taking a nap?" Christine asked, immediately suspicious, thinking that she was going to be tricked into falling asleep.

"Nope. Just resting." She almost laughed at her daughter's skeptical expression. "You can even turn on the TV. I'm not going to nap."

"OK." Christine headed into the living room, and watched as Angela and Brennan draped part of the couch with towels. She gave them a curious look. "What's that for?"

"Come sit by me." Brennan patted the cushion next to her.

"I'm going to call Hodgins." Angela pointed her phone and headed toward the front door to give Brennan a few minutes with Christine. "Be right back."

Christine hopped up next to Brennan, still curiously looking at the two towels, but somewhat distracted with the TV remote.

"Hey, guess what?"

"What?"

"You're finally getting your baby sister." Brennan watched with a smile as Christine's face turned from confusion to a mixture of shock and delight.

"Now?" she asked excitedly, forgetting all about the TV remote.

"It'll be a little while, but she'll definitely be here by tomorrow."

"Really?"

"Uh huh." She leaned to kiss Christine's forehead. "What do you think? Are you excited?"

"Yeah!" She nodded eagerly.

"Will you sit with me while we wait on Daddy to get home?"

"Sure." Christine leaned against Brennan's shoulder and gently placed one hand on Brennan's stomach. "That OK?"

"Mmmhmm." Brennan stroked Christine's hair gently. "Remember our deal for when the baby comes?"

The look on Christine's face revealed that she didn't remember anything.

"You're going to Uncle Jack and Aunt Angela's for a little while to hang out with Michael," Brennan reminded.

"While you have the baby?"

Brennan nodded, noting the slightly disappointed look on her daughter's face. "We talked about this, remember? It's just for a little while. You'll get to see her right after she gets here."

"I can't stay?"

"No. Sorry, sweetheart." Brennan put one finger on Christine's lips, which were opening to protest. "No arguing. Daddy said so, too."

Christine sighed and gave her mother a slight pout, but nodded slowly. "OK, Mommy."

"Thank you for being sweet." Brennan kissed the top of Christine's head. "You can stay until your dad gets here."

* * *

Booth had enough presence of mind to check the traffic on his phone before deciding to take the interstate home. As he roared off the exit ramp, he glanced at the clock on the dashboard. _"Seventeen minutes? Damn. That siren really does work,"_ he thought, pleased with his time as he pulled up to a stoplight.

His phone buzzed, and he reached to view the photo text from Brennan, smiling as he saw his daughter's face, grinning with glee as she gave a thumbs up sign next to Brennan's stomach. He chuckled as he read the numbered text from his wife:

"_1. Please read this at a red light for obvious safety reasons. __2. I had to tell Christine without you, and I'm very sorry. I hope this photo makes up for it. (If you can't tell, she's ecstatic!) __3. Baby is staying put, as am I. Angela has me banished to the couch until you arrive, so hurry. __4. We love you and can't wait for you to get home. Drive safely."_

"Bones, you just made me speed a little bit more," he muttered as he checked his mirrors and raced to the next turn. Within minutes, he had pulled into their neighborhood and turned off the siren just before he pulled into the driveway and jumped out. Just as he reached for the front door, it swung open, revealing an amused Angela.

"See, Bren, what'd I tell ya? Clearly Booth didn't get arrested for the siren."

"You're hilarious." He rolled his eyes at Angela and gave her a quick hug. "Thanks for being here."

"Daddy!" Christine sprang up from her spot near the TV, bounding towards her father. "You're home!"

"I am!" Booth smiled, leaning down to pick up his daughter and give her a kiss. "Are you OK with that?"

She nodded, planted a kiss on his cheek, and then said with a serious expression on her face, "Mommy's in labor."

"So I heard." Booth smiled again. "Do you even know what that means?"

"Of course she does," came Brennan's voice from the den. "Christine, tell him what it means."

"It means Mommy's getting ready to push the baby out."

"Right." Booth gave Christine another kiss. "And that means you're going to be a big sister!"

Christine nodded, a shy smile crossing her face. "Yeah. By tomorrow."

"Yep, definitely by tomorrow." Booth strode into the living with Christine, leaning over the couch to kiss Brennan. "Hi."

"Hi yourself." Her eyes sparkled. "I'm glad you're home."

"Why, are you close?" Booth began to look panicked as he sat down on the couch by Brennan with Christine in his lap.

"No, not at all."

"You sure?"

"I promise. She's not going to be as fast as Christine."

"Well, that's obvious — she'd already be here if she was as fast as Christine!" Angela grinned and held out her arms to take Christine from Booth. "Speaking of — come upstairs with me for a minute, sweet girl. We gotta make sure you've got everything packed for tonight."

Booth handed Christine over to Angela, and the two hurried up the stairs. He put one arm around Brennan's shoulders, drawing her close to his chest, and reached for her fingers with his free hand. "You two really scared me over the phone."

"I'm sorry. When my water broke, Angela got a little dramatic."

"Shocker." He leaned forward to kiss Brennan again, this time longer than the last. "You ready to do this?"

She nodded. "Are you?"

"With you? Anything."

Brennan laughed. "You're being sappy."

"Oh well. It's not every day that we have a baby. I think I get to be sappy every now and then."

"Fair enough …" She trailed off, wincing.

"Hey. Squeeze my hand," he urged, watching as her eyebrows furrowed and her shoulders tensed under his light grip.

"I'm good." She let out a deep breath. "I really need to get up and walk."

"Let's just sit for a few more minutes, OK? Rest while we can." He pressed his lips to the top of her head.

"I asked Angela to stay — I know we talked about it earlier, but are you OK with it?" She looked up at him. "I figured it would make you feel better having someone else here to help."

"That's fine," he assured her. "And yes, I'm glad to have her here."

She fidgeted on his chest, toying with the bottom of his vest. "Think you could take this off? It's really uncomfortable."

"Oh yeah. Sorry." He sat up from the couch and yanked off the vest, dropping it on the floor.

* * *

To give Booth and Brennan precious alone time, Angela kept Christine busy for almost fifteen minutes, allowing the little girl to pack unnecessary items, and letting her help change the sheets and lay out towels in Booth and Brennan's bedroom.

"You're helping Mom?" Christine questioned, shaking out the folds from a towel.

"Yep. Your Dad and I are going to help her."

"Mom says it's messy and I might be scared."

"Yep." Angela wrinkled her nose. "Definitely messy and a little scary, which is why you're going to my house. But your mom is going to be just fine."

"Oh, I know." Christine nodded confidently.

"Good." Angela surveyed the bedroom and, thanks to the open blinds, noticed a familiar car pulling into the driveway. "I think we're ready to go back downstairs and get you packed up with Uncle Jack!"

Christine grabbed her stuffed elephant and let Angela take her duffel. As the two headed downstairs, Christine was the first to round the corner of the staircase, rushing to the couch at the sound of a low groan.

"Mommy?"

"Shit," Angela muttered under her breath, dropping the duffel bag to scoop up Christine. "Hey, she's OK."

Christine was rapidly approaching tears, staring at Brennan, who had her eyes and lips tightly shut, hand clenched around Booth's. Brennan opened her eyes to see Angela comforting Christine, and managed a halfway reassuring smile. "Christine, I'm OK."

"You're hurt."

"Hey, come here. Come sit in my lap." Booth held out his arms for Christine, and adjusted Brennan's position just slightly. "Mommy's OK."

"Why'd she made a funny noise?"

"We talked about this, remember?" Brennan reached for her daughter's hand. "It's hard to have a baby."

"It hurts?"

"Yeah," Brennan answered honestly.

"I don't want you hurt."

At his daughter's sweet statement, Booth placed a firm kiss on Christine's cheek. "That's why I'm holding her hand. Aunt Angela and I are going to help her."

Still tearful, Christine looked at Booth skeptically. "How?"

"It'll be over soon and then she won't hurt."

Still insistent on voicing her concerns, Christine replied, "I don't want Mommy hurt."

"I promise she'll be OK. She's really strong and brave, remember?"

Christine nodded.

"So she'll be fine. Soon we'll have your baby sister. Can you kiss the baby one last time?"

"Uh huh." Christine sniffled and turned to kiss Brennan's stomach, then sat back up to hug Brennan.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," Brennan assured Christine, holding her tightly. "Your dad and Aunt Angela are going to take good care of me. Can you behave for Uncle Jack?"

"Yes."

"Good. I love you." She kissed Christine's cheek. "And when you come home, you'll get to hold your sister."

With that reminder, Christine smiled. "OK."

Booth stood and held Christine, walking toward the front door, where Angela had let Hodgins inside. "OK, big girl. Be good for Uncle Jack. He'll come bring you back here first thing when we have your sister."

Holding up her pinky finger close to his face, Christine gave her father a serious look.

"Right. Pinky swear." He linked his finger with hers and kissed both of them. "I love you."

* * *

_Oh my goodness, y'all are amazing! The reviews from the last chapter blew me out of the water. (It made it hard to concentrate at work seeing my phone light up with email notifications, but it was so great to come home and read all the nice things y'all wrote.) Thank you so very much! Your reviews are incentive to keep writing and to post updates quickly._

_I hate it took me this long to get this chapter up. So sorry! I've rewritten it three times now, and I'm still not entirely pleased. Hope this version is somewhat adequate — would love your thoughts. (And hey, I've already started on the next chapter. Good news: I finally named the baby — woohoo!)_

_Work is crazy most of this weekend, and we are due for some bad weather; therefore, I can't promise another update within 24 hours like last time, but hey, it could happen, especially since y'all are so great. :) Again, thanks for reading and reviewing._


	26. Chapter 26

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"You two are nuts." Angela shook her head and watched as Booth bent down to unlace Brennan's running shoes. "No one in their right mind wants to go for a walk around the neighborhood while in labor. And no one else lets their wife do it."

Booth shot Angela a withering look over his shoulder. "Bones is boss today, and I do exactly what she wants."

"And that doesn't make you the least bit nervous?"

"It does, but I've agreed to do it anyway." He glanced up as Brennan leaned and put both hands on his shoulders. "You OK?"

"Stay right there. Please." She gripped his shoulders tightly and made a face, pushing back against their front door.

"Hot bath with jets ready to go, Bren. Just hang on a few more seconds and it's all yours," Angela promised.

"Ugh." Brennan rested her the back of her head against the door. "Why can't this one be as fast as Christine?" She kept her hands on Booth's shoulders as he stood up.

"Tired already?" he questioned.

"Yeah," she admitted. "And maybe a little impatient."

He smiled. "I think that's OK, given the circumstances. You ready to hit that Jacuzzi?"

"Uh huh." She eyed him warily. "You're not carrying me up the stairs."

"Wouldn't think of it. I'll follow right behind you."

"Bren, I'm going to fix you some tea — Booth, you want to split a pot of coffee with me?" Angela asked, heading back into the kitchen.

"Yes please — the good stuff."

"Of course. Decaf isn't legitimate coffee."

Brennan groaned. "You two are mean."

* * *

A few minutes later, Booth rejoined Angela downstairs, collapsing for a minute on the couch before Angela brought him a steaming mug.

"Bren banish you?" she teased, clinking her mug against Booth's in a mock toast.

"Yeah." He blew into the hot liquid, allowing the steam to hit his face. "She wants ten minutes alone, and promised to yell if she needs me."

Angela gently placed a hand on Booth's knee. "How are you not petrified right now? You're so calm, and it's kind of weirding me out."

"It's all an act. Trust me. I'm freaking out inside."

"You didn't try to convince her to do the hospital thing?"

"Oh, I did." He paused. "About three months ago, we talked about it, and of course we argued. She still insisted on the homebirth she didn't get with Christine, and I still wanted the safety of the hospital. Right before our fight turned horrific, I came the realization that this is her thing and I need to be supportive."

"But doesn't it scare you?"

"Yeah, a little," he admitted. "But it's Bones, and she knows what she's doing. Everything was fine last time, and it'll be fine this time."

"Plus, you got the siren if you need it." Angela grinned.

"Hah. Yes. And we've got you this time."

"Aw, look at you being sweet."

"I mean it." Booth looked over at Angela. "I know you were here dropping off paperwork, but your timing was perfect. She might not have asked you stay if you hadn't already been here, and I am very thankful you're here."

"Well, I figured I needed to stick around and make sure you were actually going to make it home. I thought you might be stuck in a cell after meeting up with Judge Andrews."

Almost mid-sip into his coffee, Booth promptly spit the hot liquid back into the mug. "Pardon?"

"You talked to him after everything the other night, right?"

"What do you mean?"

Avoiding Booth's gaze, Angela suddenly found her coffee mug extremely interesting.

"Angela."

"I plead the fifth."

"You can't plead the fifth because this isn't court. Tell me."

"It's not my place to tell you," Angela protested.

"I didn't ask if it was your place. I told you to tell me."

She sighed. "Andrews wanted Bren to do a presentation to a board on Thursday."

"She had tutoring."

"Yeah. He wanted to take her lunch break."

Booth's eyes narrowed. "But he didn't — I talked to Sweets."

"Yeah, the meeting time didn't match up with the prison's lunch break, so Brennan got lucky. But I think she's anticipating having to present at a later date."

"Hell no she won't, "Booth growled. "She did her time and went above and beyond his requirements. That bastard can …"

"Easy, tiger." Angela patted his arm. "Now you're all worked up and mad at your lovely wife, which is exactly why I didn't want to tell you. And you really can't be mad at her right now because she's having your baby. When you go back upstairs, you're going to put on your poker face and pretend like I never told you. Deal?"

"Yes, but …"

"No." Angela was firm. "Deal?"

"Deal."

"Good. Now drink your coffee and sit for a minute. You and I both need some energy. Lord knows what kind of crazy involved shenanigans Brennan's going to want to try with us to get this kid out."

Booth nodded and took a sip of his coffee, coughing slightly after he swallowed. "Good grief, what's in this?"

"I doubled the coffee."

"I double the coffee on a regular basis, and it doesn't taste like this. That's not it."

"Don't question me and just drink it."

* * *

"Here, let me get you." Parker laughed as Christine eagerly bounded from the backseat of his truck into his arms. "Hey, you got unbuckled and everything all by yourself!"

The little girl nodded her head. "I want to hurry!"

"Fair enough." Parker strode up the walkway to the house, lit by the light by the front door. "Remember, we can't be loud or stay long. Your mom is going to be really tired."

"I know. And the baby's sleepy."

Parker grinned at his sister's statement. "Yes. Being born is a very tiring process, so I'm sure the baby will be sleepy."

Christine's grip around Parker's neck tightened as he climbed the porch steps. "Park?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for getting me."

Parker smiled and kissed Christine's cheek. "Of course. I'm glad to. I love you."

"I love you too." Christine watched as Parker put a key into the door and turned the lock.

"Hey, I'm here," Parker called out cautiously.

"Just a minute!" came Angela's muffled voice from the hallway.

Parker gently set Christine down on the couch in the den, still lined with towels. "We may have to wait a few minutes."

She nodded. "OK."

Angela walked out of the laundry room into the kitchen. "Wow, you got here fast."

"Well, I've been texting with Dad for almost five hours now. He told me she was close thirty minutes ago, so I figured we better hurry."

"So good to see you, and sweet of you to bring Christine," Angela met Parker by the kitchen island for a quick hug. "And yes, Bren's very close."

"Oh crap, she hasn't had the baby yet?" Parker hadn't intended to get there before the delivery.

"She's about to start pushing. Should be soon," Angela promised, grabbing a pitcher of cold water from the fridge.

Christine looked over the couch at Angela and Parker raised an eyebrow as they heard a noise from upstairs, one that neither of them recognized.

"Like I said, it'll be soon!" Angela shot Christine a reassuring smile, hissing under her breath to Parker, "I'm glad you're here, but get her out right now. Things are _not_ going to be quiet for a while, and the last thing we need is a traumatized Christine."

He understood and made a beeline back to the den for Christine, saying to Angela, "Don't tell them that Christine's here — it's a surprise."

Angela nodded. "I've got to get back — I'll come get both of you as soon as it happens." She disappeared around the corner and jetted back up the stairs.

"Was that Mommy?" Christine looked up at Parker with slightly fearful eyes as he approached the couch.

"Um …" Parker hesitated, swallowing as they heard another sound — this time, it was unmistakably a cry, followed by Booth's encouraging voice trying to soothe Brennan.

Immediately, Christine's eyes filled with tears. "Mommy."

"Hey." Parker promptly scooped Christine up in his arms, grabbed a blanket off the couch, and hurried outside onto the back porch, closing the door behind them. "Christine." He wiped her eyes. "Shhh, it's alright. She's OK. Calm down." Parker soothed, rubbing his little sister's back as she cried.

"P-p-pro-mise?"

"I promise, she's fine." He kissed Christine's cheek and hugged her closer into his chest. "I'm so sorry it scared you. She's fine."

"W-w-why does s-she cry? Cause it h-hurts-s?"

"Yeah. That's why Dad and Aunt Angela are there. They're helping it not hurt so much. Did you hear Dad talking to her?"

The little girl nodded tearfully.

"He's helping her. I promise she'll be OK. What did Dad tell you — Mom's really strong and brave, remember? Didn't you tell me that in the car on the way here?"

Christine nodded.

"See, she'll be fine. Soon we'll have our baby sister." Parker glanced out into the backyard, seeing the freestanding bench swing. "Hey, Dad fixed the swing. Want to swing?"

"Uh huh." Christine rubbed her eyes and hiccupped.

"I'll sit and you can stay in my lap, and we'll snuggle with this blanket. How's that sound? You can fall asleep if you want to — it's late." Parker stepped off the patio and walked over to the swing, still holding Christine, who had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

"No," Christine said stubbornly. "I want to see the baby."

"I know. We'll go see her when Aunt Angela comes to get us. I promise. Think you can rest for a few minutes? Just try to close your eyes."

* * *

A steady mixture of sweat and tears streaked Brennan's flushed face. "I just want her out," she whined desperately, settling back into the stack of pillows on the bed.

"I know, baby." Booth looked up at Angela, who had come back into the bedroom. "Was someone at the door?"

"Yeah, your mini me." Angela wrung out the washcloth that she had just dunked into the pitcher of water.

In the midst of fighting contractions, Brennan hadn't heard Parker's voice announcing he was home. "Parker?" she questioned. "What's he doing? It's getting late."

"What do you think, sweetie?" Angela smiled, handing Booth a cool washcloth. "He wants to see the baby."

"I texted him a little while ago, Bones. Remember? I just didn't think he'd get here this fast." He looked over at Angela. "If he was speeding, I'm gonna kill him."

"Nah, he wasn't speeding." Angela knew Parker well enough to know he'd never drive riskily with Christine in the car. "He's fine, Booth. Just eager."

Brennan sucked in a deep breath as Booth gently wiped off her forehead and cheeks. "I don't want him to hear me."

"He won't," Angela assured her. "He's sitting on the back porch. I told him you were close and I'd come get him soon."

Booth glanced at his phone as it buzzed. Seeing the text was from Parker, he reached for it with his free hand and read: _"Picked up Christine. Uncle Jack texted and said she wouldn't go to bed and kept asking about the baby, so I figured I'd bring her. Don't tell Bones — it can surprise her. We're on the swing waiting — she's asleep my shoulder. Tell Bones I love her."_

A sharp gasp from Brennan drew Booth's eyes away from his phone. "Sorry," he soothed. "That was Parker. He said to tell you he loves you."

Brennan nodded silently, her lips pressed tightly together.

"Baby, please don't be quiet."

"Yeah, no need to be a hero, Bren. Yell and cuss as loud as you want. You know that's how I roll."

"Saving that for when I push," Brennan muttered to Angela through clenched teeth.

"Speaking of which … you should be close. Not forcing you — just tell me when you're ready."

"Give me a minute." Brennan rested the back of her head against the headboard as she rubbed her stomach and closed her eyes.

"So, you catching or am I?" Angela quizzed Booth.

From his position on the bed next to Brennan, Booth looked down at Angela, who was kneeling on the floor resituating a stack of towels and a small basin. "I was hoping you would."

"You really don't think you should be the one catching? You did it just fine last time, Mr. Steady Sniper Hands."

"Oh, and your hands aren't steady? They take detailed photos and paint with tiny strokes and do delicate reconstructions — doesn't that sound adequate for the job?"

Brennan groaned, pulling one knee toward her chest. "Listen. I don't care who catches the baby, but one of you needs to get ready."

"OK, OK!" Booth was immediately at full attention. "Still want to do this on the edge of the bed?"

"Uh huh."

"Booth." Angela entered into full-on pseudo-midwife mode with her tone and instructions. "Grab those extra pillows and put them beside her. Help her move towards the edge, then help support her."

Without asking, Booth reached under Brennan, gently lifting her to the side of the mattress that Angela had lined with towels.

"Thanks," she whispered gratefully.

"OK Booth, those pillows need to go behind and beside her so she's got something to fall back on in case I need you to move down here and help me," Angela instructed, watching Booth's handiwork.

Brennan pressed herself firmly into Booth's chest. "Thank you for doing this."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." He kissed her neck as he tucked a few stands of hair back into her ponytail. "Tell me where to hold you."

"You're good right there … _shit_," she cursed, pitching herself forward slightly as she curled around her abdomen.

"Bren, you ready?"

She shook her head vehemently.

"Pushing's the good part," Angela reminded.

"No it's not!" Brennan panted, finding Booth's hands and moving them to her hips. "Hurts like hell! Worst part!"

"OK, you're right, but pushing's the only way to stop the pains from hell." Angela placed one hand firmly on Brennan's knee. "I'm not trying to rush you — do what you need to do. I'm staying right here."

Brennan sniffled, giving Angela a weak smile. "Thank you … both of you."

"Sweetie, of course," Angela returned the smile. "You don't have to thank us — we want to be here."

"You couldn't kick me out if you want to," Booth said, kissing Brennan's cheek. "I'm staying right here, too."

She turned toward him and put her hand on his cheek, kissing his lips soundly. "I'm sorry in advance for anything that I might say against you irrationally out of pain. I love you."

"You know I love you."

"Geez, now I want to cry!" Angela exclaimed. "Even after all these years, I still get all excited hearing those words."

"Oh." Brennan gasped, and Booth felt her quiver in his arms.

"Everything OK?"

"I want to push."

* * *

_I know, I know. I'm the worst for leaving you right there. This quickly turned into a much-too long chapter, and I just didn't have another decent cut off spot. I apologize ... feel free to voice your cries of outrage in a review._

_However, to atone for the cliffhanger, I've got chapter 27 on deck — literally, it's sitting in Microsoft Word ready to go. It'll be up tonight, probably right after the episode airs. (Good way to celebrate Bones Monday, right?)_

_I introduced Parker into this chapter — does that help ease the pain of the cliffhanger? (And side note, since the writers are a little vague with the overall age/timeline for everyone, I'm assuming Parker is of driving age for my story. I know the driving time/age requirements for DC, but that's a lot of boring details, so I'll spare you.)_

_Oh, and that whole going for a walk around the neighborhood part? My boss did that with her first, and she swears she'll do it with the second. The sitting on edge of the bed is how a family friend delivered four of her five kids. To each her own!_

_Again, thank you for the kind reviews, follows, and messages. I've had to sit through a usually high amount of meetings for the past four days (which explains the delay in updating), and your notifications were a huge boredom-buster. Thank you, and keep them coming!_


	27. Chapter 27

_A/N: My __sincere__ apologies for not getting this up right after tonight's episode. After posting chapter 26, I answered a phone call that required me to go to the ER for the next 6+ hours. (More on that after the end of this chapter!)_

_This picks up right after the last line from chapter 26. (If you don't remember it, maybe click back and read the last line.)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"All right, go for it. We're ready." Booth tightened his grip on Brennan as she strained forward, and he looked down at Angela. "Those were her famous last words with Christine."

"Go, Bren," Angela urged, grabbing Brennan's free hand. "Squeeze hard … good. Good first push."

"That … wasn't good." Brennan argued, easing back toward Booth's chest. "It was weak."

"That's OK. Still a push, which is better than no push."

Brennan found Booth's left hand on her hip, and held onto it tightly. "I'm sorry if I hurt your hands," she apologized to both Booth and Angela.

"Stop apologizing. You didn't break my hand last time, and you're not going to ..." Booth was interrupted, wincing as Brennan yelled and dug her nails into his skin. "Good, push, Bones!"

"Atta girl … push for a couple more seconds," Angela coached, trying to keep her face stoic as Brennan's nails scored her hand. "Good, that was better!"

* * *

After fifteen minutes, Brennan was in tears. "I'm so tired. Why is it taking so long?"

"So long?" Angela questioned curiously. "Just how fast did you think this was going to happen?"

"Christine was quick." Brennan took a deep breath. "This is taking longer."

"This is normal," Angela assured her. "Not everyone pops right out like Christine. How long did you push with her?"

"Four minutes tops," Booth answered for Brennan.

"Lucky," Angela muttered.

"Ang." Brennan hesitated. "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"

"Yes." Angela squeezed Brennan's hand reassuringly. "Do you think something's wrong?"

Slowly, Brennan shook her head. "No."

"That's right. You're fine. You know you're fine. You're just tired." Angela was firm but encouraging as she gently massaged Brennan's hand. "I pushed with Michael for 47 minutes. And one of the nurses told me that was pretty short."

"Oh God," Brennan moaned. "I can't do that."

"Yes, you can," Angela insisted. "And it's probably not going to take that long. You're close. Let's keep going."

* * *

Several minutes and multiple pushes later, Angela finally exclaimed, "Bren, good job! Just a few more and you'll have the head out."

Brennan released Angela's hand and fisted the bedsheets. "Hold me harder, Booth." She sucked in a couple deep breaths before straining forward again.

Tightening his grip on Brennan, Booth was scared he was going to bruise her. "Doing great," he soothed, wiping away the sweat dripping down her brow and neck.

She tried pushing again and let out a frustrated yell as she questioned Angela, "Head?"

"No, keep going — oh God! Bren, good, good!" Angela encouraged, quickly moving one of her hands. "I can see hair!"

As the contraction ended, Brennan flung herself back into Booth, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Head's … still not … oh … " She let out a pitiful sob, and Booth quickly reached to stroke her cheek to brush away her tears.

"Hey, it's OK to rest for a second," Angela gently reminded. She looked up at Booth, whose eyes were wide as he made soothing noises into Brennan's ear. He looked more scared than Angela had ever seen him — which made perfect sense considering she had only seen him look frightened once or twice.

"Booth, she's alright. It just really hurts to start crowning and to pause."

He nodded, thankful for Angela's explanation and glad that he wasn't seeing what she was seeing. "Come on, Bones. You heard her — keep pushing."

"Come on, push again," Angela coaxed. "It's just going to keep hurting until you do."

"I can't!"

"Yeah, you can." Booth wiped away the tears streaming down his wife's face. "I'll lean back and then lean forward with you as you push. We're pushing together on three." He leaned back slightly, gently tilting Brennan back against his chest. "One, two …" he began to lean forward again, "three."

"Push!" Angela ordered. "Harder, sweetie. Harder!"

Brennan's sobs increased, but she followed Angela's instructions.

"Good! Bren, I see more hair! The baby's got dark hair! Don't stop — I want to see the rest of the head with this push."

"Baby, you're doing great," Booth soothed. "So close."

"Come on, I want to see that sweet face," Angela coaxed. "Oh Bren, good! Head's out!"

Booth kissed Brennan's flushed cheek. "Good job, shhhhh. Breathe. Just lay back on me and catch your breath for a minute."

Stubbornly, Brennan shook her head, still trying to get her breathing under control. "Ang … how's the … coloring?"

"Good," Angela promptly replied. "She's not blue. You ready to get these shoulders out?"

Brennana nodded determinedly, releasing her grip on the sheets and reaching her hand over to Booth's, lacing her fingers with one of his hands.

Booth felt Brennan's abdomen tighten up. "Contraction. Here we go — push!"

Angela made a face as Brennan let out a very uncharacteristic shriek. "I know — shoulders are a bitch! You're doing so great — just push harder."

By now, Brennan's face was blood red, and she was trying to get her sobs under control so she could simply breathe.

"Bren, you've got one out."

"One?"

"Yeah, hold off a minute. Rest."

Booth immediately looked around Brennan's shoulder at Angela. "Everything OK?"

"Yeah, baby's just a little angled. It's OK, but she's going to need me to help pull the other shoulder out."

"Is that bad?"

"No, not bad." Brennan wheezed. "Baby's OK."

"It won't hurt her more," Angela assured him.

Booth nodded. "Good."

"God, she is tearing me apart … I need to push." Brennan closed her eyes.

"Go for it." Angela draped an extra towel over her knees and moved a couple of the instruments closer. "Push when you feel ready, but tell me before you do so I can help."

"Ohhhhh God … Ang, now." Brennan began again, putting out an agonized moan, and Booth quickly saw Angela's fingers hooked around the second shoulder. "Shoulders are out!" he encouraged.

"Come on, Bren! Two more big pushes!" Angela coached. "Shoulders are done, get that back and butt out for me!"

Angela had barely finished her last sentence when Brennan let out a groan and nearly toppled Booth backwards as she pushed fiercely against his chest.

"Baby's here!" Angela had to try hard not to cry as she grasped the slippery baby, firmly holding the infant to her chest as she reached for a wet towel. "Booth, I need …"

A loud wail interrupted her request for help.

"Listen to those healthy lungs!" Angela crooned happily. "Oh Bren, good job, sweetie!"

Booth slipped out from behind Brennan, who collapsed into the pile of pillows behind her, chest heaving as she attempted to get her breath. As Angela had instructed him earlier that evening, Booth grabbed a warm towel and began to wipe off the baby, now situated in Angela's lap.

"Bones, we've got our girl!"

Brennan smiled through her tears, wincing as she tried to prop herself up. "I want to see her."

"We can do all this on the bed," Angela agreed. "Bren, lay back. I'm putting her on your chest."

Brennan immediately laid back and reached as she felt the wet, warm skin of her daughter against her chest. The infant protested loudly as Angela suctioned out mucus from her nose and applied ointment around her eyes. "Sorry, baby girl. Gotta do it."

"You need to cut the cord," Brennan murmured, feeling her daughter's stomach.

"On it." Booth reached for scissors, his eyes starting to get misty. "Gonna need your help, though."

Brennan smiled as she saw Booth's teary eyes trying to focus on where to place the scissors. "There." She placed her hand on Booth's wrist as he snipped. "Perfect."

"Arms up." Angela promptly scooted the infant into Brennan's arms, draping a blanket around the baby. "Here you go, Momma."

"Oh, she's beautiful!" Brennan stroked the baby's cheek, her tears still falling. "Sweet girl, I'm so glad you're here. Oh, let me look at you … shhh." She planted a kiss on her daughter's cheek and began to soothe her as the infant fussed. "I know … I know … it's scary and cold and bright … shhhhh."

Booth placed one hand on his squirming daughter and the other under Brennan's neck to help support her. He watched with a smile as Brennan carefully catalogued their daughter, skimming her fingers over the baby's tiny body to check her toes, fingers, joints, skull, eyes, and limbs.

"Wrap that baby up — she's going to be cold," Angela scolded, handing Booth another blanket.

"In a minute. Bones is checking her out." He bent to kiss Brennan, and then kissed the baby's forehead, then back to Brennan again. "You ready to name her?"

She hesitated for a minute, but then nodded. "Yes."

"Want me to say it, or do you want to?"

"You can." She looked over at Angela. "You're the first to hear her name."

Angela beamed, smiling happily. "Well, go on!"

"Angela, I'd like for you to meet Juliana Elyse." Booth kissed his daughter again.

"Oh, that's beautiful!" Angela praised. "Where'd it come from?"

"Julian — after Caroline. Ana because it's Beluah's middle name. And Elyse because it's got similar derivatives to Elizabeth, which was Doris's middle name."

"God, she's perfect," Angela stated, staring at Juliana in Brennan's arms. "Perfect name for a perfect kid."

"Look at this hair. So different than Christine's." Brennan reached for the blanket in Booth's hand.

"Uh huh." Booth smiled, taking in the sight of Brennan swaddling their new daughter as Angela worked to clean up Brennan. "You are a champ."

She smiled tearily. "I love you. So much."

Booth responded by kissing her deeply. "I love you, too. And I'm so proud of you."

"Ang." Brennan looked up from her new daughter for a second. "I love you as well. Thank you for everything."

"Aww, sweetie. So glad I got to be here for this." Angela sniffled, then laughed. "Booth, wipe my eyes for me, will you? My hands are pretty gross and I'm not done yet."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Angela declared that Brennan was officially finished and all that was left was to help Brennan change and put new sheets on the bed. As Angela cooed and rocked the baby, Booth helped Brennan dress.

"God, I'm sore. I forgot how fast that happens."

"Sorry, I'll go more slowly."

"No, you're good," she assured him.

He placed a kiss on her forehead. "Want to take the baby to meet Parker? I'm sure he's anxious."

"Oh, yes. I forgot he was here. Is still he on the porch?"

Before she could protest, Booth picked his wife up, cradling her in his arms. "He's in the den. I texted him and told him to come back inside after you delivered."

"Booth," Brennan whined. "I can walk."

"Humor me. Angela, you've got to give our Juliana back to her momma."

"I know." Angela sighed, carefully placing the infant in Brennan's arms. "Gosh, I want another one."

"I'll tell Hodgins." Booth winked.

"Oh stop it. We're adopting from now on anyway. You know that." Angela opened the bedroom door, allowing Booth to step outside.

"Well, I'll tell Bug Man to get on that paperwork, or at least pick the country you're adopting from." Booth walked down the stairs and into the den, where Parker sat on the couch, still holding a sleeping Christine.

Brennan's eyes lit up when she saw the two. "Oh Parker, thank you for bringing her."

"Uncle Jack said she wouldn't sleep. Kept asking about the baby." Parker grinned, then gently rubbed Christine's back and kissed her cheek. "Hey sis, wake up. Time to meet the baby."

Christine's hands flew to her face to rub her eyes, and then she slowly sat up in Parker's lap, dazed.

"Hi sweetheart." Brennan smiled as Booth set her down in the loveseat. "Come meet the baby."

Christine's eyes instantly widened, and she looked back up at Parker. "The baby's here?"

"Yep. Told you I'd wake you up when she was born." He stood up with Christine in his arms, setting her next to Brennan in the loveseat.

Christine stared intently at the infant. "Is that my sister?"

"Yes." Brennan tried valiantly to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes. "What do you think, sweetheart?"

"She's pretty." Christine paused. "And little."

"She'll grow, sis. Just like you." Parker leaned to kiss Brennan's cheek. "Good job, Bones. She's beautiful."

Christine copied Parker, leaning up to hug Brennan's neck tightly and planting a noisy kiss on her cheek. "Is she asleep?"

"Yes. She's pretty tired," Brennan smiled at Christine's adoring gaze. "Her name is Juliana. Would you like to hold her?"

Christine's head bobbed up and down. "Yes, yes!"

"OK. Let Parker show you how to hold your arms." She watched as Parker helped his sister hold out her tiny arms and hands, then she placed the baby in Christine's lap, still supporting the infant's head. "Booth … we need a camera."

"On it." Angela waved her hand. "Got the whole thing on camera and I'll make video stills. Carry on. Pretend I'm not here."

* * *

_Side note: I didn't get to watch the most recent episode. If you spoil it for me, I'll be upset. If I wasn't so darn tired, I'd be watching it right now. _

_Y'all, I am so terribly sorry. I meant to post this hours ago, and I unexpectedly got called to the ER for 6 hours to help supervise one of my sweet students, who was unresponsive and passed out for an hour! (Part of my job involves mentoring a large group of college girls. I had to take this one to the ER because it took her parents hours to get here.) Thankfully, she appears to be OK, but they are still running a battery of tests. _

_Shout out to geraghtyvl, who messaged me and wondered why Brennan didn't opt for having a midwife. That's a good question. I totally meant to include my reasoning for that in the last chapter, and I forgot. Without further ado, here's why I did it: T__he main reason I didn't have a midwife was because I didn't want to write one ... haha. (I just didn't want to introduce some random character, especially at this point in the story, and I felt slightly lazy.) However, in the short chapter 26 section where Angela questions Booth about the whole birth method, I did mean to have him mention that he had fought for a midwife and Brennan hadn't wanted one, saying Angela would be a suitable compromise. But yes, I can definitely see Booth wanting someone with medical knowledge there. Obviously Brennan has it, but she's a little busy. I can also see Brennan talking Booth into not having a midwife there for baby #2 since the Christine's delivery went fine. And to the naysayers who might think kid #2 is always a shorter labor than kid #1 ... not the case. :)_

_Love the name? Hate the name? Mad at me for being late? (Sorry … nothing I could do. Work called, and this definitely falls into the "emergency" category!)_

_I apologize for any typos. I made a stiff drink to take off the edge of sitting in an ER for 6 hours … then decided I still needed to post this! Haha. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	28. Chapter 28

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones._

* * *

"Bones? You good with Cam coming over for a few minutes to do all the measurements and stuff?"

"Uh … yes." Brennan distractedly responded to Booth's question, spellbound by watching Christine's first moments with her baby sister.

"Good. She's on her way."

Brennan motioned for Booth and Parker. "Here, both of you. Come sit." She looked down at Christine, who was still studying Juliana intently. "Christine, you should try talking to her. She's been hearing your voice for several months — I bet she'd like to hear it now."

Puzzled and still slightly sleepy, Christine glanced up, looking at Brennan and then Booth. "What do I say?"

"Tell her whatever you want," Booth instructed as he and Parker sat down on the nearby couch. "She's listening."

"Hi Juliana. I'm your sister. I'm Christine. I'm your big sister. And Parker's your big brother." Christine hesitated, looking back up at Brennan. "Her eyes are closed."

"That's OK," Brennan replied. "She's still able to hear you."

Assured of the fact that it was OK for her sister to still be asleep, Christine continued. "I wanted to see you for a really long time. I'm really glad you're here. And I love you. Lots." She looked up at her mother, who had tears pooling in her eyes. "Are you sad?"

"No, I'm very, very happy," Brennan assured Christine, kissing the top of her head. "Those were very sweet words to Juliana."

"Can I kiss her?"

"Sure — gently," Brennan reminded.

"Wait. Daddy wants a picture." Booth grabbed his phone and Christine waited patiently, placing a soft kiss on Juliana's cheek after Booth's prompting.

Brennan wiped her eyes and looked over at Parker with a smile. "Hey, you need a turn, too."

"Let Christine hold her for a while. I can wait."

Christine looked up from the baby. "Really?"

"Really. After all, I got to hold you when you were little!"

Hesitating for a moment, Christine looked over at her mother. "But Mommy said share."

Parker laughed. "I got an idea, sis. How about you sit in my lap while you hold Juliana? That way I get to hold both of you."

Christine nodded happily.

"Let Dad hold Juliana for a minute while we get you situated," Parker suggested.

"Good idea." Booth reached for Juliana, and kissed her forehead before putting her back in Christine's arms.

"Oh my goodness." Angela had a look of awe on her face as she stared at her camera screen and then at the living picture before her. "I hope you guys are OK with a painting of the kids for Christmas."

"They do look pretty perfect, don't they?" Booth sat down on the armrest and wrapped his arm around Brennan's shoulders. She nodded in agreement, leaning her head against him as they watched their three interact.

"Look, want to see her hands?" Parker asked Christine, adjusting the blanket around Juliana. "Here." He smiled as he watched Christine peer curiously and gently touch one of her sister's tiny hands.

"Five fingers," she announced.

"Just like you, huh? Let's see if we can get her to hold your finger."

* * *

By the time Cam arrived, Christine had fallen asleep, now secure in Angela's arms. Booth had taken Juliana, and held her while Brennan struggled not to doze off.

"It's OK to rest," Booth reminded Brennan as Cam unpacked a few supplies. "You did just have a baby."

"I want to wait until Cam's done with everything," came Brennan's sleepy reply.

"Hi," Cam greeted quietly, approaching the couple with a smile on her face. "How'd it go?"

"Bones is a champ."

Cam nodded her agreement. "How's the little one?"

"Perfect." Booth briefly glanced over at Parker, who was sitting next to Angela on the couch. "Bub, it's getting late. You're welcome to stay here, but you'll need to call home."

"Well, I told Uncle Jack I'd bring Christine back, and if she protested, I'd stay over there with her for the night."

Booth smiled. "That's thoughtful of you, but I guess we better not push our luck with your mother."

"I can take her home with me," Angela offered, stroking Christine's hair gently. "Unless you two need me to stay."

"Christine can stay here," Brennan began, rubbing her eyes as she slowly sat up in the loveseat.

"Nah. Let's give you and Booth a first night alone with Juliana." Angela looked over at Booth, who nodded his agreement. "Then it's settled. I'll take her home with me and bring her back in the morning."

"OK." Parker stood and stretched. "Guess I'll hit the road. Don't want to worry Mom. Oh, and she says congrats. She'd like to bring dinner over tomorrow."

"Tell her thank you and that'd be wonderful. We'd love for both of you to join us." Brennan smiled as Parker bent to give her a hug. "Thank you for being so wonderful tonight with Christine. You took great care of her."

"You're welcome." Parker went to give Booth a hug, and then grinned as Cam grabbed his shoulder. "Don't worry, Aunt Cam — I wasn't leaving without hugging you, too."

"Good." Cam wrapped both arms around Parker. "Good to see you."

"You too." He turned to place a kiss on Juliana's head. "Night, Jules. Let Bones and Dad get some sleep tonight, OK? I'll see you guys tomorrow."

As Parker let himself out of the front door, Cam held out her arms out for the baby. "Did I hear him say 'Jules?'"

"Juliana," Booth explained, somewhat reluctantly handing his daughter over to Cam. "Juliana Elyse."

"Oh, she's beautiful … good job, you two." Cam stroked Juliana's cheek. "Hope I can keep her asleep."

"It's all right if you don't," Brennan assured her, snuggling back up against Booth's shoulder.

"You want to watch everything? We can stand up." Booth questioned Brennan.

"I can see from the loveseat."

"You're sore."

She nodded. "I'm quite certain Juliana is larger than Christine was at her birth."

"How can you …"

"You really don't want to finish that question, Seeley." Cam gently began to unwrap the blankets around the baby.

"Right." He looked over anxiously. "Need any help?"

"Sure." Cam smiled. "You can come help me weigh her."

Leaving Brennan to stretch out in the loveseat, Booth stood and walked over toward Cam. "You haven't weighed any brains or dead things on that scale, have you?"

"Nope. This is the special one that I save for live, happy things — like babies." She gently placed Juliana on the scale. "Wow, she's a champ. Didn't even faze her."

"She should be tired," Brennan commented. "She took forever."

"Speaking of which," Cam paused as she watched the scale's digital display. "Did one of you get the time of birth?"

"11:14 p.m."

"I'll put that on the birth certificate." Cam reached for a notepad. "Eight pounds, four ounces, Dr. Brennan. Good thing she didn't wait another week."

"Wow. Christine wasn't quite seven pounds." Brennan's eyelids drooped, and she rubbed her eyes again to keep herself awake. "How about head circumference and shoulders?"

"Give me just a minute." Cam reached for a pen and jotted down the weight, then grabbed a tape measure.

"Exactly 36 centimeters for her head, Bones." Booth watched as Cam moved the tape measure.

"That's a centimeter larger than Christine."

"Well, they both got their momma's big brain." Booth shot Brennan a grin over his shoulder.

Cam let out a low whistle. "129.8 millimeters for the shoulders."

Angela visibly winced. "Oh God, Bren. No wonder you were hurting."

"129 isn't normal?" Booth questioned.

"Average shoulder circumference is 122 millimeters," Brennan stated. "So yes, that's above normal."

"But she's fine," Cam assured Booth. "It just means she got your broad shoulders."

He shot Brennan an apologetic look. "Sorry about that."

"Twenty inches long." Cam jotted down the figure and then reached for the blanket to cover Juliana. "Booth, you can hold her while I check her ears and nose, then I'll be out of the way. Can you think of anything else, Dr. Brennan?"

"I think that's all the important things."

"She looks very healthy."

Brennan nodded. "I concur."

"Good deal. I'll put everything on the birth certificate and bring it over tomorrow for both of you to sign." Cam waited for Booth to adjust Juliana so she could check the other ear. "Yep, looks normal. You've got a healthy one."

"Thanks, Cam." Booth gave her a grateful smile. "And thanks for coming by so late."

"I need to head out, too." Angela slowly stood up, carefully managing not to wake Christine. "Call if you need anything."

"Wait." Brennan gingerly got out of the loveseat and took a few steps toward Angela. "Thank you for everything tonight. I couldn't have done it without you."

Angela smiled and accepted Brennan's hug. "Thank you for asking me. Glad to do it." She blew a kiss in Booth and Juliana's general direction. "That's for your baby girl."

"Got it." Booth nodded with a smile.

Brennan kissed Christine's head gently. "Night, sweetheart. And Ang, thank you again."

"I'll walk you both of you out," Booth offered, handing Juliana over to Brennan. "Be right back."

"Night, Dr. Brennan. Rest up, and call if you need anything." Cam waved.

When Booth returned a few minutes later, he found his wife happily mesmerized with their new little girl.

"Booth, quick — she's got her eyes open again."

He hurried over to the couch, immediately smiling at Juliana's tiny blinks. "Guess she's wondering why it got so quiet and still again."

"Maybe." Brennan laid her head against Booth's chest with a contented sigh. "Can we just sit here for a few minutes?"

"Sure." He placed a gentle kiss in her hair. "But let's get you to bed soon. You're exhausted."

"I know … but I find that I just want to stare at her all night."

"Me too, Bones. Me too."

* * *

The following day was a blur of activity and adjustment. Christine wanted to spend every minute with Juliana, and was quickly having to learn that she couldn't be a "baby hog," especially when Max showed up to visit for several hours. He left right before dinner, and the family barely had half an hour before Parker and Rebecca showed up with food in tow. Brennan found herself relieved to have Parker, who was a welcome distraction to Christine, as well as Rebecca, who immediately took over the kitchen, instructing Booth to rest on the couch with Brennan.

"So, you had her here?" Rebecca asked, unpacking the food and placing a dish in the oven.

"Yeah."

"Never thought you'd agree to something like a homebirth, Seeley." Rebecca grinned. "And Temperance, you're quite the woman."

"Well, Bones isn't a fan of hospitals," Booth remarked.

"Me neither. God, I hated the thought of delivering Parker with all those germs."

"See, Booth? I'm not paranoid or crazy." Brennan shared a triumphant smile with Rebecca. "Thank you for agreeing with me."

"Yeah, the only reason I had Parker in one was my mom insisted on it … and the fact that I'm a total pain wimp. After nine hours of agony, that epidural was heaven."

"You made it nine hours — that doesn't sound like a wimp to me!" Booth laughed.

Rebecca shrugged. "I guess not." She dried her hands on the dishtowel and walked over to the couch. "OK, as soon as that casserole is finished reheating, we'll be good to go."

"Would you like to hold her?" Brennan offered Juliana, and Rebecca gladly accepted.

"Oh, look at her ... Parker showed me a picture when he got home last night, but that doesn't do her justice. She's beautiful."

"Thank you." Booth paused. "And Bec, thanks for letting him come over last night. It was really special to have him here."

"Well, he missed out on a lot with Christine, thanks to my crazy career move. I didn't want him to miss anything with Juliana, especially seeing her as a newborn." She gave him a regretful smile. "I'm sorry about all that."

"Water under the bridge," he assured her, quickly changing the subject. "How's Brent?"

"Good. He's at a conference in Detroit, else he'd be here tonight — but he sends his congratulations." She looked up with a grin, hearing one pair of quick heavy feet followed by a set of lighter steps coming down the stairs. "Sounds like the older two are back."At that moment, the group heard a knock at the door.

"Is someone else coming?" Booth asked Brennan.

"Not that I'm aware of …" She trailed off before raising her voice to call out, "Parker! Make sure Christine doesn't answer the door — please."

"Good call." Booth stood up and headed for the front door.

"Dad, it's Ms. Caroline," Parker announced.

"Let her in."

"Oh good. Two fine, able bodies to help me." Caroline stepped inside and placed a giant vase of flowers inside the foyer. "Booth men. Come help me get this junk out of my car."

"Well hello to you too, Caroline." Booth followed Caroline back outside with Parker behind him.

"I take it that's Caroline Julian?" Rebecca asked Brennan.

"Yes … you've never met her?"

"No, just heard Seeley talk about her over the years."

"I had no idea she was coming."

"Maybe she's just dropping things off," Rebecca suggested.

"Perhaps."

"Mommy? Want me to carry the flowers?" Christine was eying the vase on the floor.

"No, they look heavy. We'll let Daddy get them. Thank you."

The three came back inside, arms full of flowers and boxes. Caroline handed one smaller box to Christine, and managed to close the door behind them.

"Bones, where should we put all this?"

She shrugged, staring at their full arms. "What is it?"

"Um, let's try the kitchen." Booth led the crew into the kitchen and began to set down the boxes, flowers, wine bottles, and baskets.

"Are these cupcakes?" Christine asked, curiously peering into the small box Caroline had given her. "Ooh, they are!"

"Christine, don't touch them. Give those to your dad, please." Brennan sighed, and caught Rebecca hiding a smile.

"She's got Seeley's sweet tooth, huh?"

"Most definitely."

"Now …" Caroline glanced around the area. "Dr. Brennan, where's this lovely baby?"

"Right here." Brennan nodded toward Rebecca. "Caroline, this is Rebecca Stinson, Parker's mother. Rebecca, this is Caroline Julian."

"It's a pleasure, Ms. Julian." Rebecca looked up. "Um … would you like to hold her?"

The prosecutor nodded, her arms already extended for the baby.

"All right." Rebecca stood and handed Juliana to Caroline. "I need to check the casserole."

"Caroline, will you stay for dinner?" Brennan asked.

"Oh no, I just had to drop all that junk off at the house and see this little one. Oh … that reminds me. Mini Booth!"

Parker turned his head. "You mean me?"

"Yes. Bring me that folder in the basket."

Parker glanced around and finally saw a manila folder in one of the two baskets. He walked it over to Caroline, who nodded at Brennan. "Give it to Dr. Brennan, please."

"What's this?"

"Cam needed a notary for the birth certificate. She brought it to me this morning, so I'm bringing it back."

"Oh, thank you." Brennan pulled the form out of the folder. "Part of it is blank … Booth and I didn't sign, and Cam didn't write down the baby's name."

"Easy fix. You two can sign, and I can add her name. Speaking of which, what is it?"

Brennan smiled. "Cam didn't tell you?"

"Nope."

"Then we're making you guess." Booth's voice boomed out from in the kitchen.

"That's mean."

"No, it's not. Guess."

Caroline furrowed her brow. "Tell me you two didn't name this beautiful baby something dumb like Apple or Bosnia."

"No." Booth grinned. "Guess again."

Silent for a few seconds, Caroline hesitated. "You didn't name her Caroline, did you?"

"That's closer than the fruit or country guess," Booth hinted.

"Oh come on, cher. Just tell me."

"Her name is Juliana Elyse." Brennan watched as Caroline's mouth opened slightly. "And yes, she's named after you. Julian is you, Ana was a grandmother's middle name, and Elyse has similar derivatives as Elizabeth, which was another grandmother's middle name."

"I don't know what to say." Caroline stared at the bundle in her arms. "She's beautiful."

"Thank you." Brennan smiled. "Now are you going to tell us where all this stuff came from?"

"Right." Caroline glanced up. "The tulips are from me. The random arrangement is from the FBI, probably Booth's floor, but who knows. The big floral up-do is from Judge Andrews."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not finished." Caroline rolled her eyes at Booth's interruption. "That fruit basket is from … uh, Hacker, I think. It might be Hacker's boss. Just look at the card. One of those envelopes is from Andrews, and the other envelope is from Booth's office, along with the cigar and booze."

"What about that?" Parker pointed to an orchid plant with a card.

"That was delivered to my office 30 minutes ago. I'm guessing the card holds the answer there."

Parker reached for it, and walked toward Brennan. "It's got your name on it."

"Holy smokes." Booth had opened one of the other cards. "Bones."

"What?"

"Uh … Andrews bought us wine and dinner — a very nice two hundred dollar dinner." He held up a gift certificate. "And he wrote you a very complementary thank you note."

"The cupcakes are from him, too," Caroline noted.

"This seems odd," Brennan mused. "Why would he be nice to us?"

"Ah." Caroline grinned happily. "Obviously you two haven't spoken to Hodgins."

"What'd he do?" Booth and Brennan asked in tandem, immediately concerned.

"Relax. The Cantilever Group owns the companies and contracts with the judge's office. It seems that Hodgins simply reminded Andrews of that, and nicely suggested that he retire next election season."

"Why do I think there's more to the story than that …" Booth muttered.

"Relax and be thankful. You got yourself a good friend, and shockingly, he didn't do anything illegal with Andrews." Caroline looked at the envelope in Brennan's hand. "How about that one?"

Brennan slipped her finger under the seal and tore, revealing another thank you card. "I'm not sure." She opened it, and out fell a photo.

"Ohhh, it's from her island of misfit toys," Caroline relayed to Booth, who was still standing too far away to see the photo.

A delighted smile began to spread across Brennan's face as she read the inside of the card.

"Bones?"

"They passed." She was practically beaming as she turned to look over her shoulder at Booth. "Every single one of them passed math. And the four that I predicted to pass the whole thing — Rashid, Austin, JT, and Wade? They did it, Booth." She held up several sheets of paper from inside the card. "These are summaries of their scores — with the exception of Reggie, every single one of them passed at least two sections."

"Look at you." Booth walked over and planted a kiss on Brennan's lips. "All credit is due to your hard work with those guys."

"It means they'll get funding for a tutoring program. And Rashid and Austin will have the opportunity to try correspondence classes." She let out a happy sigh and leaned up to kiss Booth. "This has been a _very_ good week."

"Uh, what's that all about?" Rebecca rejoined the group and pointed to the photo in Brennan's lap, clearly confused by the men in orange jumpsuits holding their test scores and grinning like fools.

"Bones did some, uh … community service."

"She was a teacher to adults," Christine explained simply. "They had a big test."

"I tutored for the GED," Brennan clarified to Rebecca. "They took it this morning."

"Wow, and they already sent you their results? You must have made quite the impression."

"That she did," Caroline assured Rebecca.

"Whoa!" Parker glanced at the photo, his eyes widening. "Bones, you went to jail!?"

"Hush," Caroline scolded, placing her hand near one of Juliana's ears. "We shouldn't talk about such things around my namesake. She is pure and innocent and doesn't need to hear about that."

"Park," Christine looked up at her big brother, trying to figure out why he seemed shocked. "Mommy and Daddy put people in jail."

"Right — the bad guys."

Christine nodded. "So Mommy goes there sometimes."

"Yep, you got it." Booth scooped Christine up and she giggled. "You are so smart!" He turned to Rebecca. "Please say dinner's ready."

"It is." She grinned at his almost desperate tone. "Everyone in the kitchen — let's eat!"

* * *

_Y'all, it was so hard to close this — I've had the chapter written for several days, but I just couldn't think of the perfect ending. And who would have thought I'd have Rebecca (of all people!) finishing out the story? Oh well. :) _

_This has been a pleasure to write, and I am so grateful for all of you who have read, given me feedback and suggestions, and reviewed. I appreciate you more than you know — you have made this really fun!_

_I'd love to know what you thought about the story — please feel free to shoot me a message or drop me a review._

_(Shout out to Gargonzola'sArchaicInstitution for catching a name typo ... it went undetected for almost 10 hours! I originally had Juliana named something different, and that slipped into one sentence in this chapter — she was the first one to shoot me a nice message and ask about it. Thank you for catching it!)_

_For those who have asked, I'm not finished writing — not sure when the next stuff will be up, but I've got a few things in the works, including one particular weekend mentioned in season 6 that we never got to see. Stay tuned ... and/or read the other stories I've posted. :) Thanks so much for reading!_


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